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THE INTERNATIONAL SCIENTIFIC SERIES. 

VOLUME XXV. 



INTERNATfoNAr SCIENTIFIC SERIES. 

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XXV. EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. By Alexander Bain, LL. D., Professor 
of Logic in the University of Aberdeen. Price, $1.75. 



THE INTERNATIONAL SCIENTIFI 



j^VtA 



EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. 



BY 



ALEXANDER BAIN, LL. D., 

PSOFE680B OF LOGIC IN THE UNIVEE8ITT OF ABEBDEEN. 



NEW YORK: 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

549 AND 551 BROADWAY. 

1879. 



b3 v^^^ 






yyf 



PREFACE. 



In the present work I have surveyed the Teaching Art, as 
far as possible, from a scientific point of view ; which 
means, among other things, that the maxims of ordinary 
experience are tested and amended by bringing them 
under the best ascertained laws of the mind. 

I have devoted one long chapter to an account of the 
Intellect and the Emotions -is their bearings on education. 
The remainder of the work is occupied with the several 
topics more specially connected wlfhi:he subject. 

There are certain terms and phrases that play a lead- 
ing part in the various discussions ; and to each of these 
I have endeavoured at the outset to assign a precise 
meaning. They are — Memory, Judgment, Imagination, 
proceeding from the Known to the Unknown, Analysis 
and Synthesis, Object Lesson, Information and Train- 
ing, doing One Thing Well. 

A separate consideration is also bestowed on Edu- 
cation Values, or an enquiry into the worth of the various 
subjects included in the usual routine of instruction ; the 
largest amount of space being given to Science. 

Under the designation — Sequence of Subjects (Psy- 



vi PREFACE. 

chological and Logical), a number of important matters 
are brought forward, it is thought, in an advantageous 
way. In the first place, we are interested to know what 
is the order of the unfolding of the faculties, and what 
influence that order should have in the arrangement of 
studies. Such is the psychological question. In the 
next place, there is a sequence growing out of the de- 
pendence of the subjects themselves ; which in most 
cases is plain enough, but occasionally becomes per- 
plexed by disguises. This I call the logical or analytical 
problem of education. 

These preparatory matters being disposed of, the 
main topic — the Methods of Teaching — is entered upon. 
After adverting to what concerns the first elements of 
Reading, I proceed to the delicate question of the com- 
mencement of Knowledge teaching. It is here that we 
are introduced to the Object Lesson, which, more than 
anything else, demands a carefiil handling ; there being 
great apparent danger lest an admirable device should 
settle down into a plausible but vicious formality. The 
latter part of this chapter treats of the methods applic- 
able to Geography, History, and the Sciences. 

The Mother Tongue has a place appropriated to 
itself Everything that relates to it as an acquirement 
— Vocabulary, Grammar, the Higher Composition, and 
Literature — is minutely canvassed.- 

A chapter is assigned to an estimate of the value of 
Latin and Greek at the present day. The provisional 
arrangement whereby the higher knowledge was for cen- 
turies made to flow through two dead languages should 



PREFACE. vii 

now be considered as drawing to a close. The ques- 
tion then arises whether any new sphere of utility 
has been discovered for these languages, sufficient 
to reward the labour of their acquisition when their 
original purpose has ceased. On the assumption that 
the present system must sooner or later be changed, I 
suggest what I consider to be, in relation to the higher 
studies, the curriculum of the future. 

On the wide subject of Moral Education, the plan 
adopted is to bring into prominence the points where 
the teaching appears most ready to go astray. As 
respects Religion, I have principally confined myself to 
the connection between it and moral instruction. 

A short chapter on Art teaching endeav^ours to clear 
away some prevailing misconceptions, especially in the 
relationship of Art and Morality. 

The general strain of the work is a war, not so much 
against error, as against confusion. The methods of 
education have already made much progress ; and it 
were vain to look forward to some single discovery that 
could change our whole system. Yet I believe that 
improvements remain to be effected. I take every oppor- 
tunity of urging, that the division of labour, in the shape 
of disjoining incongruous exercises, is a chief requisite 
in any attempt to remodel the teaching art. 

Aberdeen : November i8, 1878. 



^^^ RECEIVED '^< 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

SCOPE OF THE SCIENCE OF EDUCATION. 
Wherein consists the scientific treatment of any art . 



TAGB 

I 



DEFINITIONS OF EDUCATION. 

The Prussian idea — harmonious development ..... i 

James Mill's definition — too wide ....... 2 

Usual divisions of education give too much ..... 3 

The art of health should be excluded ...... 4 

J. S. Mill's definition . 5 

The province of the schoolmaster a safe guide ..... 6 

The final end — happiness —how qualified ..... 7 

The plastic power of mind involved ...... 7 

Psychological and Logical (or analytic) branches .... 8 

Leading terms to be precisely fixed ...... 8 

Combination of experience and theory ...... 9 

Conduct of the understanding not included ..... 9 



CHAPTER II. 
BEARINGS OF PHYSIOLOGY. 



Physical health and its conditions assumed 
Physiological aspect of the plastic property of the mind 
The various bodily organs may be unequal in power 



II 
II 
12 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The brain may be nourished at the expense of the other organs, and 
vice vers A ........ , . . 1 2 

Intellect and emotion may compete for brain support . . -IS 
Memory or acquisition as brain growth — its cost . . . .13 



CHAPTER III. 

BEARINGS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 
All parts of Psychology applicable : the Intellect more especially . 15 

DISCRIMINATION. 

The foundation of Intellect . . . . . . . .16 

Conditions : — (i) mental watchfulness, (2) absence of undue excite- 
ment, (3) interest, (4) juxtaposition 17 

Examples of discrimination . . . . . . . .18 

THE RETENTIVE FACULTY. 

Statement of the primary law:— time or repetition necessary . 20 
Other things aiding . 21 

General Circumstances favouring Retentiveness. 

1. The PHYSICAL CONDITION 22 

The outlay of the brain in acquirement, compared with other 
exercises ...... 

Times when retentiveness is at its best 

2. Concentration. Influence of the Will . 

Pleasure in the work .... 
Operation of pain ..... 
Neutral excitement. Its best modes 
Retentiveness follows delicacy of discrimination 
Sharpness of transition .... 



23 
25 
27 
28 

30 
31 
33 
35 



SIMILARITY, OR AGREEMENT. 



Shock of similarity in diversity 36 

Discoveries of agreement favoured, (i) by the smallness of the diffe- 
rences, (2) by juxtaposition, (3) by cumulation of instances . . 37 



CONTENTS. 



' CONSTRUCTIVENESS. 

PACK 

Conditions : — (l) something to construct from, (2) a clear concep- 
tion of what is aimed at, (3) trial and error ..... 41-3 



ALTERNATION AND REMISSION OF ACTIVITY. 

Sleep the only entire cessation of mental action 

Relief given by alternation or transition . 

Study and sport or pleasure ..... 

Observing and doing ...... 

Repetition of what has been learnt .... 

Memory and judgment. — Language and Science 
Different kinds of acquirements alternated 



CULTURE OF THE EMOTIONS. 



Associations of pleasure and pain ..... 
Happy associations dependent on special conditions 
Painful growths ; passionate outbursts .... 
Moral improvement, distinguished from the motives to duty 
Disinterested repugnance to wrong.- .... 



44 
45 
46 

47 
47 
48 
49 



52 
53 
54 
56 
59 



PLAY OF MOTIVES :— THE SENSES. 

The organic sensibilities principally affected in punishments . . 60 

The muscular pains. Nervous pains — ennui ..... 61 

Privation of nourishment ........ 62 

Skin inflictions ... 63 

PLAY OF MOTIVES :— THE EMOTIONS. 

Survey of the different emotions appealed to 64 

The Emotion of Terror. 

Fear may or may not accompany pain ...... 66 

Evils of working by fear ........ 67 

The Social Motives, 

General aggregate of social emotion . ... . .68 

The intenser forms unsuitable in education ..... 69 



xii CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Best mode of bringing sociability to the aid of study ... 70 

■ Influence of the multitude on the individual ..... 7° 



73^1? Anti-Social and Malign Emotions, 

Checks to Anger. Cruelty ........ 72 

Legitimate outlets for malevolent passion : — Punishments, actual and 
ideal ; humour ; play ....... "74 

Anger, an aid in discipline . 7^ 



The Emotion of Power. 

Actual and ideal power — a first-class motive 77 

The Emotions of Self, 

Self-complacency and self-esteem . . . .... 78 

Love of praise or admiration ........ 79 

The apportioning of praise in education ...... 79 

Dispraise, censure . . . . . . . . . .80 



The Emotions of Intellect, 



Pleasures of Knowledge. ....... 

Bearings on utility. Certainty sought after .... 

The stimulus of the emotions unattended with the desire of truth 
Ueneral knowledge. Its severity, and the two modes of overcoming 
our repugnance to it . 

1. Pleasurable flash of discoveries of identity, and relief from an in 

tellectual burden . . . . . 
Dislike induced by the technical formalities of science 
Opposition of the concrete and the abstract 

2. Abstractive separation necessary in order to trace causation 
Curiosity, as found in children, often spurious . 



82 
83 

84 

85 
87 
88 
89 
90 



The Emotions of Activity, 

Natural or spontaneous activity of the system ..... 92 

Gratified self-activity as a motive in teaching ..... 93 

Feeling of origination veiy powerful, but not immediately applicable 94 

Feeling suitable to the learner — admiration for superior knowledge . 95 



CONTENTS. xiii 

The Eviotions of Fine Art, 

PAGE 

Fine art influential as enjoyment . 96 

Various effects of art : — symmetry, proportion, design, rhythm, 

time -97 

Music as a moral power. Poetry 97 

The Ethical Emotions. 
Sympathies, social yearnings, reciprocated good conduct ... 99 



The Feelings as Appealed to in Discipline, 



General question of moral control 

Erroneous methods ........ 

Nature of authority. The school compared with the family 
Principles applicable to authority in general .... 

Bentham's exhaustive view of punishment .... 

Discipline in the school :— influence of good physical surroundings 
teaching arts ; teacher's personality ; tact .... 

One man against a multitude is in the post of danger 



100 
101 
102 
104 
106 

108 
III 



Emidatiojt — Frizes —Fla^e-taking, 

Ambition to be first 1 12 

Prizes. Praise or commendation 113 

Punishment. 

Censure or reproof. Forms of disgrace . . . . . .114 

Detention from play . . . . . . . . -US 

Impositions . . . . . . . . . . .116 

Corporal punishment . . . . . . . . .116 

The Discipline of Consequences. 

Allowing children to suffer by natural consequences. Advantages 
and defects of the method . . . . . . . .118 



CHAPTER IV. 
TERMS EXPLAINED. 
Importance of a preliminary clearing-up of leading terms . 



xiv CONTENTS. 



MEMORY, AND ITS CULTIVATION. 

PAGE 

Means of strengthening the memory 120 



JUDGMENT, AND ITS CULTIVATION. 

Judgment has a variety of meanings ...... 122 

Its contrast to memory . 123 



IMAGINATION. 

Conception, or the conceiving faculty . . . . . .124 

Can this be cultivated as a whole ? 125 

The creative faculty . . .126 

Imaginative literature. The gratifying of emotion the leading cir- 
cumstance . . ........ 127 



PROCEEDING FROM THE KNOWN TO THE UNKNOWN. 
An admitted principle, but liable to uncertainty in its application . 128 

ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. 

Analysis has certain distuict meanings 129 

Synthesis an unsuitable term . . . . . . . .131 

OBJECT LESSONS. 

Occasion of the first introduction of the phrase .... 132 

Reference to acquiring the meanings of names . .... 133 
Selection of objects as texts ........ 135 

INFORMATION AND TRAINING. 

What things properly constitute information . . . . .136 
What is comprised under discipline, or training . . , .139 

ONE THING WELL. 

Minute acquaintance with a subject in detail ..... 142 

How far a synoptical view of certain subjects may be of value . . 143 
The beginner must abide by one scheme . . . . . .144 

Abuses of imdtitm noti vndta , . . . . . . .145 



CONTENTS. XV 

CHAPTER V. 

EDUCATION VALUES. 

PAGR 

The survey of values to embrace science and language . . .146 

THE SCIENCES. 

Science in general inculcates the aiming at truth .... 146 

Defects of unscientific practice ....... I47 

The antithesis of the individual and the general .... I47 

The Abstract Sciences. 

Mathematics as the type of the deductive or demonstrative method . 148 
Important formulae derived from mathematics, and applied else- 
where :— plurality of factors influencing a result ; definite and in- 
definite solutions ; totalizing fluctuations ; probabilities • .149 
Practical applications numerous and important; but, for the majority, 

the value of this training counts for most . . . . .152 

Improper claims made for this science . . . . . -153 
What mathematics does «^/ do . . . . . . • ^53 

The Experimental and Inductive Sciences. 

Best guides to ascertaining facts by observation and experiment . 154 
Over-generalization corrected . . . . . . . .154 

Limits to empirical generalities ....... 155 

As ' useful knowledge.' Applications of natural philosophy, 
chemistry, and physiology . . . . . . . .155 

The Sciences of Classification. 

To classify is an education in itself . ...... 158 

The Natural History Sciences . . . . . . .158 

Their popular interest and useful applications 159 

As contributing to the art of lucid composition .... 159 

Tlie Science 0/ Mind. 

The common knowledge of mind compared with the science of mind 160 
Preparation for the study 160 



XVi CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

T.ogic, a suitable accompaniment to the scientific course . • • i6i 

Summary of the effects of culture in science. The analyzing opera- 
tion i6i 

Bearings on fine art — a mixed influence , . . . . .162 

The Practical or Applied Sciences. 

Some of these purely professional . . . . . . .163 

The sociological group : — politics, political economy, legislation, 
law or jurisprudence ......... 164 

Ethics, grammar, rhetoric, and philology . . . . .166 

The practical sciences do not give mental training . . . .167 

LANGUAGES. 

Languages to be valued according to the use we are to make of them 167 
Language is an affair of memory, helped by the sciences of grammar 
and rhetoric .......... 168 

MECHANICAL TRAINING. 

General training of the bodily organs ...... 169 

May be pushed too far . . . . . . . . . 169 

TRAINING OF THE SENSES. 

Increase of discriminating power . . . . . . .170 

Different applications of sense training . . . . . .170 

Drawing, as a general training. Does not necessarily cultivate the 
power of observation . . . . . . . . .171 

The fascination for drawing has serious drawbacks . . . .172 



CHAPTER VI. 

SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

The educator works on a growing brain . . . , . .173 
Order of manifestation of the faculties ...... 176 

Peculiarities of the infant mind 177 

Earliest motives to take in knowledge 177 



CONTENTS. 



XVll 



Activity and pleasure .... 
Intensity of sensation is an influence 
The active energies bring forth experience 
How to gain attention to the indifferent 
The means to pleasure receive notice 
The active senses are occupied somehow . 
The finishing stroke is outward compulsion 
Questions to be considered : — At what age 

mence ?..... 
Relative priority of different branches 
Age when memory is at its best . . 
What are the sciences that come late ? 
Best age for moral impressions 



should 



education 



PAGE 
178 
179 
179 
181 
182 

183 

184 
18S 
186 
187 
188 



CHAPTER VII. 

SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS -LOGICAL. 

Order of logical dependence exemplified ..... 

The momentous transition from rt^wcrf/t' to ai^j'/rrtc/. 
Classing goes on from the first ; but the abstract notion involves ; 
sudden leap ......... 

The manner of going to work : — l. Selection of particulars 

2. Placing of instances ....... 

3. Continuous accumulation. Brilliant examples obstructive . 
Contrast a great help ........ 

4. Taking advantage of the flash of agreement 

5. Showing cause and effect as depending on properties in thei 

isolation ......... 

6. Representative particulars given for retaining the notion 

7. The definition by language ... ... 

What things are implied in analytical or logical sequence 
Cases where sequence does not apply ..... 

1. Correlatives are known together — the order of statement being in 

different . . . -. 

2. The mixing of notions of different degrees of advancement . 

3. The gratification of the feelings ...... 

4. Impatience to advance to matters of interest 

5. The language memory may hold things in the unmeaning state 

6. Detached propositions may be understood to a certain extent 



I go 
191 

192 

193 
194 
194 

19s 
196 

196 
197 
197 
198 
201 

201 
203 
205 
205 
205 
207 



XVIU CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

7. Precepts may be culled from different sciences .... 207 

8. The cultivation of independent organs or faculties . , . 208 

9. Knowledge of language and knowledge of things proceed to- 

gether ........... 208 



DOUBTFUL CASES OF SEQUENCE. 

In Arithmetic, the order of the empirical and the rational , . 209 

Grammatical teaching — the order given in the 'Code' . . . 210 
Sequence in the mother tongue— vocables and sentence-structure . 212 
Grammar a late subject : on a par with algebra . . . .213 

Early knowledge — its several stages ....... 214 

The tale or narrative — metrical composition — imaginative fiction . 214 
Difficulties of the start in knowledge ...... 215 

The early foundations. Culture of the imagination . . . 216 

The object lesson : — aid to the conceptive faculty . . . .216 

Sequence in the reading books . . . . . . .218 

Natural history subjects. Animals preferred . . . . .219 

Plants and minerals . . . . . . . . .219 

In these lessons sequence too much dispensed with .... 220 

The interest of personality leads to an inversion of the order . . 221 
Stages of natural history study ....... 221 

Sequence in geography ......... 222 

Too much expected in the commencement ..... 223 

The methodical study by object lessons ...... 224 

History, a mixture of what is easy to the young with what appeals to 
the mature mind ......... 225 

The elementary conceptions of society ...... 226 

Erroneous methods of commencing history ..... 227 

Proper teaching when the age arrives ...... 228 

Sequence in the sciences , 229 



CHAPTER VIII. 

METHODS. 

Rhetorical arts of communicating knowledge 230 

Certain points of teaching not included in rhetoric . . . .231 

CONSTRUCTIVE ACQUIREMENTS. 

Laws of the constructive faculty ... ... 233 



CONTENTS. 



XIX 



Speaking. 



Exercises in articulation ..... 

The analysis of sounds gives the order of precedence 

Th<: Manual Conslntctiveness. 



Writing and drawing .... 
The sense element in mechanical aptitudes 
The manual exercises in the Kindergarten. 

much engrossed with these . 
Writing combined with elementary drawing 



Danger of being too 



PAGB 
234 



23s 

23s 

236 
236 



Reading. 

First steps of the alphabet ........ 238 

Names of letters and words ........ 239 

Our irregular spelling to be approached by the cases of uniformity . 241 

Pronunciation and elocution ........ 242 

Knowledge exercises to be forborne at first ..... 242 

Example of premature attempts ....... 244 



THE OBJECT LESSON. 

Dangers to be avoided ......... 247 

The lesson ranges over natural history, physical science, and the 

useful arts ............ 248 

Direction given to point out, — first, qualities, and next, uses . . 249 

Account of unobvious or hidden properties ..... 249 

Distraction arising from different outlets ...... 250 

Necessity of pre-arranging the lessons . . . . . .251 

A definite purpose, or limitation of scope ..... 252 

Example of a piece of chalk ........ 253 

Distinction of the special or individual lesson, and the generalized 

lesson ........... 254 

Examples from minerals and plants ...... 254 

Adding to the store of concrete conceptions ..... 256 

Examples from animals. Individuality and Generality . . . 257 

Instance of the camel ......... 258 

The object lesson in the primary sciences ..... 260 

Consists of t'w//r;(77/ statements ....... 262 

The principle taught should rule the lesson ..... 264 

Example of the Atmosphere ........ 265 

Dew 268 



XX 



CONTENTS. 



GEOGRAPHY. 



Preparatory object lessons .... 

Inadequacy of the chance impressions of the child 

The laws of the object lesson to be strictly attended 

Introduction of cause and effect into description 

Aid of sl<etches from nature . 

Meaning of a map 

Local situation, form and magnitude 

Geographical description 

Physical geography 

Connection of geography with history 

The verbal memoi-y in geography . 

Map Drawing . . . . 



272 

273 
274 

275 
276 
276 
277 
278 
279 
279 
280 
280 



Earliest lessons in history relate to human nature . 

Object lessons on political constitutions . 

Universal history sketched for the sake of chronology 

Variety of uses and methods of history . 

Political geography the natural opening . 

The different scales of historic narrative . 

The highest form of history . , 

General History taught by selection 



281 

282 
282 
283 
284 
284 
285 
286 



SCIENCE. 

Arts of communication generally, and of the abstract idea in par- 
ticular, pre-supposed , . 



287 



Arithmetic. 

Use of objects in the concrete 288 

What is implied in the conception of number 289 

The decimal system and commencement of computation . . . 289 

Aids to learning the multiplication table 290 

Understanding of the reasons, how far available .... 291 
Arithmetic not thoroughly comprehended, until the higher mathe- 
matics is reached 292 

Utilizing of the arithmetical exercises for impressing important 

numerical facts 292 



CONTENTS. xxi 
The Higher Mathematics. 

PAGE 

The methods of impressing abstract and symbolical notions and 

principles ........... 295 

The real foundations of mathematics are attached to geometry . . 295 

Concrete teaching of little avail ....... 296 

Aids afforded by the teacher ........ 297 

Algebra succeeds geometry ........ 297 

Mathematics, in respect of teaching method, a type of the deductive 

sciences ........... 298 

The Inductive Sciences have certain specialities . . . 299 

Natural History. 

The general and the special departments of the natural history 

sciences 300 

Mineralogy and Botany least complicated ..... 300 
In Zoology there is a play of cross purposes . . . . .301 

PRACTICAL TEACHING. 

Reasons for familiarizing pupils with the objects of experimental 

science 303 

How far practical work enters into a gateral training . . . 304 

ORAL TEACHING AND TEXT-BOOKS. 

Place and function of the text-book 305 

Prescribing of tasks, with or without explanation .... 306 

EXAMINATIONS GENERALLY. 

Viewed, in the first instance, as part of the teaching . . . 308 

The disadvantage of a composed catechism ..... 308 

Questions appended to passages of information .... 308 

Examinations at the close of the course or curriculum . . . 309 

Examinations for public appointments. Considerations involved . 309 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

Initial difficulty — the fusion of language and thought . . . 312 
Principle of one thing at a time ....... 313 



XXll 



CONTENTS. 



CONDITIONS OF LANGUAGE ACQUISITION GENERALLY. 

Uniting word to word by pure verbal adhesiveness . 

Superior advantage of associating names at once with their objects 

Importance of understanding the meanings conveyed 

Disadvantage of beginning foreign languages too early 

Aids to purely verbal acquisition . , . . , 

Technical devices ........ 

Modes of fixing attention upon the words to be associated 

Proposal to bring forward words in the order of frequency of occur 

rence ........... 



PAGE 

316 
317 
318 
320 
320 

321 



THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

The names of known things seized willingly . . , . . 323 
Early stages of language show the teaching of knowledge under 

difficuhies ........... 324 

Employment of the object lesson ....... 324 

Knowledge on its language side ....... 325 

Correction of vulgar and provincial errors ..... 326 

Explanations that count as thing-knowledge ..... 327 

Language lessons proper — the teaching of synonymous words . . 327 

Subtle reaction of the knowledge of things ..... 328 

The shades of difference in synonymous terms ..... 328 

The knowledge-master as a word-master ...... 329 

The language-master working by easy stories and descriptions . . 330 
Committing passages to memory . . . . . . '331 

Poetry preferred at first ......... 332 

Comparative advantages of prose passages . . . . . 333 

Impressing the sentence structure . . . . . . . 334 

Sentences also follow meaning or thought ..... 335 

Varying of sentence forms ........ 336 

Arrangement of words and clauses in sentences .... 337 

Obverse equivalents especially valuable ...... 338 



TEACHING GRAMMAR. 



Grammar abridges labour .... 

Special uses : — i. Avoiding subtle errors 

2. Isolating the language lesson 

5. Training in the structure of sentences 

4. Contributing to the pupil's wealth of vocables 



339 
340 
340 
341 
342 



CONTENTS. 



The Age for commencing Grammar. 

PACE 

Things necessary to be understood first 344 

Teaching without book 344 

Grammar not to be commenced before ten years of age . . . 345 

How to fill up the previous time 346 

Exercises paving the way to grammar ...... 347 

The lesson in English to be isolated some time before beginning 

grammar ........... 347 

Actual teaching of grammar. DifTerences of view on certain points . 349 



THE HIGHER COMPOSITION. 



Definitions and rules of rhetoric ..... 
Essay writing. Different forms of exercises . 
The great aim, to distinguish good and bad in composition 
Lessons impressed during promiscuous reading 



350 
351 
353 
353 



ENGLISH LITERATtfRE. 



How literary criticism passes into the history of literature 
Selection of authors for special study . . . . 
Preference of later authors to earlier ; of prose to poetiy . 
Consideration of the matter as far as possible excluded 



354 
355 
355 
357 



CHAPTER X. 

THE VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

Original reasons for the study of Latin and Greek in Modern Europe 

Arguments for the continued use of these languages :— I. The infor 
mation still locked up in Greek and Latin authors 

IL The art treasures of Greek and Roman literature inaccessible 
except through the languages ..... 

HL The classical languages train the mind . 

What the training consists in : — Grammar ; translation 
Comparison of the advantages possessed by other subjects 
Supplying materials for the mind to work upon 

I v. Classics as a preparation for the mother tongue 

The words derived from Classics must still be learned in their 



new meanings ...... 

In regard to syntax, the study is obstructive . 



359 

361 

365 
366 
367 
371 

374 

374 
377 



XXIV CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

V. Classics as an introduction to philology. Small value of this 

contribution ......... 378 

Case on the other side : — I. The cost . . . . . . 380 

II. The mixture of conflicting studies distracts the learner . . 382 

There is a fallacy in proposing to cultivate different faculties 

in the same exercise ....... 383 

III. The study devoid of interest ....... 385 

IV. Evil of pandering to authority ....... 386 

Note on the opinions of Mr. Henry Sidgwick, Mr. Alexander J. 

Ellis, and Mr. Matthew Arnold 387 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE RENOVATED CURRICULUM.. 

The Higher Education should embrace : — I. Science . . . 390 

II. The Humanities, including (i) History and the Social Science, 

and (2) some portion of Universal Literature . . '391 

III. English Composition and Literature .... 392 
Reasons for requiring all the three departments .... 392 
A certain time to be allowed for extra or additional subjects, and 

foreign langp.iages to have the foremost claim .... 393 

Other additional subjects ........ 394 

Reasons for the 'scheme . ....... . 394 

Arrest of the present tendency to over-specializing in liberal studies . 395 

Objections considered : — Supposed ruin of Classics .... 395 

Alleged inaptitude of many minds for science ..... 396 



CHAPTER XH. 

MORAL EDUCATION. 

First lessons in morality— personal experience of what is forbidden 

and what is allowed ......... 398 

Resembles our first education in the Physical laws .... 399 

Supplementary teaching — What ? . 400 

Lessons of the schoolmaster. He presents selected and cumulated 

examples of the consequences of good or ill conduct . . . 401 

Importance to this end of a good classification of the virtues . . 404 



CONTENTS. XXV 

PAGE 

The fundamental virtues are prudence, justice, benevolence. They 
cross and re-cross ......... 404 

406 
408 
409 
409 
411 
411 
412 
412 
413 
413 
414 

415 
416 



Correct apprehension of the motives — self- regarding and social 
Survey of the social relationships ...... 

Moral teaching, like oratory, demands resources of language . 
Moral ideals — the tendency to exaggeration .... 

Cautions needful in moral lessons ...... 

1. The dislike of the pupils, to be taken account of 

2. The need of working by conciliation rather than fear . 

3. The self-regarding motives most available .... 

Occasions when the heroic motives may be used 

Mixed sentiment of personal dignity .... 

4. The employment of poetry and romance .... 

5. Mutuality or reciprocity in services ..... 

6. Appeals to the humane sentiment ..... 

7. The vice of lying has a background of selfishness, which ought 

to be traced out in each case . . . . . . .416 

8. Miscarriages in moral teaching : — The examples from animals 

irrelevant and futile . . . . . . . .417 

Modes of representing the blessings of labour .... 418 

Poverty and contentment. The inequalities of wealth. Need of 

sound teaching in the social science ...... 419 

Religion as related to morality ....... 420 

As taught on its own account, partly intellectual, but still more 

emotional ........... 422 



CHAPTER XIII. 
ART EDUCA TION. 

The essential of art teaching is the culture of art emotion . . 425 

This comes incidentally to learning the practice of any fine art . 426 
Independent cultivation of aesthetic sensibility. Example of the taste 

for Landscape .......... 426 

Conditions — a happy and disengaged state of mind, and a good 

monitor . . . . . . . . . . .427 

Taste as discrimination ......... 428 

Music, Elocution, Painting, &c. ....... 429 

The difiicult questions of art culture raised by poetry . . . 429 

The poets claim to be moral teachers ...... 430 

Fiction attacked on the score of morality ..... 431 

2 



XXVI CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The class too wide to be discussed as a whole . . . -431 

Fiction viewed as an exciting stimulus ...... 432 

The impression received depends on the previous culture of the 

ref..der 432 

The drama merely a department of fiction ; rendered more impres- 
sive for good or for evil by stage representation .... 433 
The educating influence of the Theatre, as such, confined to elocution 
and demeanour .......... 433 



CHAPTER XIV. 

PROPOJRTIOA'S. 



Examples of disproportion amounting to miscarriage 

Excesses in mathematics, and in minute scholarship in Classics 

Liability to disproportion in natural history 

Excesses in primary sciences ...... 

Languages, ancient and modern ..... 

Antiquarian part of our own language .... 

Excess of attention to expression as compared with thought 
Primary education, and its relation to secondaiy 



434 
434 
434 
435 
435 
436 
436 
436 



APPENDIX. 

FURTHER EXAMPLES OF THE OBJECT LESSON: 

The difficulties of the lesson culminate in the explanations of Primary 

Science 439 

Attention to the empirical character of the statements , . . 440 

Example of the teapot spout and lid 440 

The Spout : a lesson in cause and effect ..... 440 

Imperfection in procedure. How to bring it to its proper termination 441 
Hole in the Lid : an advanced lesson, to be separated from the 

other by a considerable interval ....... 443 

In such lessons an object text has no proper bearing . . . 443 



CONTENTS. xxvii 



PASSING EXPLANATIONS OF TERMS. 



PAGE 

445 

445 



Methods of explaining chance words as they occur . 

1. Showing the objects ........ 

2. If the thing is known or familiar, it may be recalled by some 

known name ......... 445 

The snare of explaining by synonyms generally . . . 445 

3. The round-about interpretation. Proceeds on the possibility of 

our understanding the notions adduced ..... 446 
The ambiguity of names — how managed ..... 447 

4. Figurative uses, to be dealt with on a plan ..... 448 

5. Spontaneous process of divining the meanings of words by induc- 

tion from the cases of their employment . . . . . 448 

5. Leading terms in science or art to be explained by a methodical 

course in the department ....... 449 

Words may be explained solely for their use on the occasion . 450 
Certain words explicable without interrupting the course of the 

lesson .......... 450 

7. In systematic knowledge teaching, words are learned in groups . 451 

8. Final appeal, in explaining general and abstract words, to ex- 

amples in the concrete ........ 432 




EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE, 



CHAPTER I. 

SCOPE OF THE SCIENCE OF EDUCATION. 

The scientific treatment of any art consists partly in 
applying tiie principles furnished by the several sciences 
involved, as chemical laws to agriculture ; and partly in 
enforcing, throughout the discussion, the utmost preci- 
sion and rigour in the statement, deduction and proof 
of the various maxims or rules that make up the art. 

Both fecundity in the thoughts and clearness in 
the directions should attest the worth of the scientific 
method. 

DEFINITIONS OF EDUCATION. 

First, let me quote the definition embodied in the 
ideal of the founders of the Prussian National System. 
It is given shortly as ' the harmonious and equable 
evolution of the human powers ; ' at more length, in the 
words of Stein, ' by a method based on the nature of 
the mind, every power of the soul to be unfolded, every 
crude principle of life stirred up and nourished, all one- 
sided culture avoided, and the impulses on which the 
strength and worth of men rest, carefully attended to.' ' 
This definition, w'hich is pointed against narrowness 

' Donaldson's Lectures on Education, p. 38. 



2 DEFINITIONS OF EDUCATION. 

generally, may have had special reference to the many 
omissions in the schooling of the foregone times : the 
leaving out of such things as bodily or muscular train- 
ing ; training in the senses or observation ; training in 
art or refinement. It further insinuates that hitherto 
the professed teacher has failed to do much even 
for the intellect, for the higher moral training, or for 
the training with a view to happiness or enjoyment. 

Acting on this ideal, not only would the educator 
put more pressure altogether on the susceptibilities of 
his pupils : he would also avoid over-doing any one 
branch ; he would consider proportion in the things to 
be taught. To be all language, all observation, all 
abstract science, all fine art, all bodily expertness, all 
lofty sentiment, all theology, would not be accepted as 
a proper outcome of any trainer's work. 

The Prussian definition, good so far, does not readily 
accommodate itself to such circumstances as these : — 
namely, the superior aptitude of individuals for some 
things rather than for others ; the advantage to society 
of pre-eminent fitness for special functions, although 
gained by a one-sided development ; the difificulty of 
reconciling the 'whole man' with himself; the limit 
to the power of the educator, which imposes the neces- 
sity of selection according to relative importance. 

Although by no means easy, it is yet possible to 
make allowance for these various considerations, under 
the theory of harmonious development ; but, after the 
operation is accomplished, the doubt will arise whether 
much is gained by using that theory as the defining fact 
of education. 

In the very remarkable article on Education contri- 



TAKING IN TOO MUCH. 3 

buted by James Mill to the ' Encyclopaedia Britannica,' 
the end of Education is stated to be, ' to render the indi- 
vidual, as much as possible, an instrument of happiness, 
first to himself, and next to other beings.' This, how- 
ever, should be given as an amended answer to the first 
question of the Westminster Catechism — ' What is the 
chief end of man .'' ' The utmost that we could expect 
of the educator, who is not everybody, is to contribute 
his part to the promotion of human happiness in the 
order stated. No doubt the definition goes more com- 
pletely to the root of the matter than the German for- 
mula. It does not trouble itself with the harmony, the 
many-sidedness, the wholeness, of the individual deve- 
lopment ; it would admit these just as might be requisite 
for securing the final end. 

James Mill is not singular in his over-grasping view 
of the subject. The most usual subdivision of Educa- 
tion is into Physical, Intellectual, Moral, Religious, 
Technical. Now when we inquire into the meaning of 
Physical Education, we find it to be the rearing of a 
healthy human being, by all the arts and devices of 
nursing, feeding, clothing, and general regimen. Mill 
includes this subject in his article, and Mr. Herbert 
Spencer devotes a very interesting chapter to it in his 
work on Education. It seems to me, however, that 
this department may be kept quite separate, important 
though it be. It does not at all depend upon the prin- 
ciples and considerations that the educator, properly so 
called, has in view in the carrying on of his work. The 
discussion of the subject does not in any way help us 
in educational matters, as most commonly understood ; 
nor does it derive any illumination from being placed 



4 DEFINITIONS OF EDUCATION. 

side by side with the arts of the recognized teacher. 
The fact of bodily health or vigour is a leading postulate 
in bodily or mental training, but the trainer does not 
take upon himself to lay down the rules of hygiene. 

The inadvertence — for so I regard it — of coupling the 
Art of Health with Education is easily disposed of, and 
does not land us in any arduous controversies. Very 
different is another aspect of these definitions : that 
wherein the end of Education is propounded as the 
promotion of human happiness, human virtue, human per- 
fection. Probably the qualification will at once be con- 
ceded, that Education is but one of the means, a single 
contributing agency to the all-including end. Neverthe- 
less, the openings for difference of opinion as to what 
constitutes happiness, virtue, or perfection are very wide. 
Moreover, the discussion has its proper place in Ethics 
and in Theology, and if brought into the field of Educa- 
tion, should be received under protest. 

Before entering upon the consideration of this diffi- 
culty, the greatest of all, I will advert to some of the 
other views of Education that seem to- err on the side 
of including too much. Here I may quote from the 
younger Mill, who, like his father, and unhke the 
generality of theorists, starts more scientifico with a 
definition. Education, according to him, ' includes 
whatever we do for ourselves, and whatever is done for 
us by others, for the express purpose of bringing us 
nearer to the perfection of our nature ; in its largest 
acceptation it comprehends even the indirect effects 
produced on character and on the human faculties by 
things of which the direct purposes are different ; by laws, 
by forms of government, by the industrial arts, by modes 



UNFRUITFUL DEFINITIONS. 5 

of social life ; nay, even by physical facts not dependent 
on human will ; by climate, soil, and local position.' He 
admits, however, that this is a very wide view of the 
subject, and for his own immediate purpose advances a 
narrower view, namely — ' the culture which each genera- 
tion purposely gives to those who are to be its successors, 
in order to qualify them for at least keeping up, and, if 
possible, for raising, the improvement which has been 
attained.' ' 

Besides involving the dispute as to what constitutes 
' perfection,' the first and larger statement is, I think, 
too wide even for the most comprehensive Philosophy of 
Education. The influences exerted on the human cha- 
racter by climate and geographical position, by arts, 
laws, government, and modes of social life, constitute a 
very interesting department of Sociology, and have their 
place there and nowhere else. What we do for ourselves, 
and what others do for us, to bring us nearer to the per^ 
fection of our nature, may be education in a precise sense 
of the word, and it may not. I do not see the propriet)' 
of including under the subject the direct operation of 
rewards and punishments. No doubt we do something 
to educate ourselves, and society does something to 
educate us, in a sufficiently proper acceptation of the 
word ; but the ordinary influence of society, in the dis- 
pensing of punishment and reward, is not the essential 
fact of Education, as I propose to regard it, although an 
adjunct to some of its legitimate functions. 

Mill's narrower expression of the scope of the subject 
is not exactly erroneous ; the moulding of each genera- 
tion by the one preceding is not improperly described 

' Inaugui-al Address at St. Andrews, p, 4. 



6 DEFINITIONS OF EDUCATION. 

as an education. It is, however, grandiose rather than 
scientific. Nothing is to be got out of it. It does not 
give the lead to the subsequent exposition. 

I find in the article ' Education,' in ' Chambers's 
Encyclopaedia,' a definition to the following effect : — ' In 
the widest sense of the word a man is educated, either 
for good or for evil, by everything that he experiences 
from the cradle to the grave [say, rather, " formed," 
" made," " influenced "]. But in the more limited and 
usual sense, the term education is confined to the efforts 
made, of set purpose, to train men in a particular Avay 
• — the efforts of the grown-up part of the community to 
inform the intellect and mould the character of the 
young [rather too much stress on the fact of influence 
from without] ; and more especially to the labours of 
professional educators or schoolmasters.' The conclud- 
ing clause is the nearest to the point — the arts and 
methods employed by the schoolmaster ; for, although 
he is not alone in the work that he is expressly devoted 
to, yet he it is that typifies the process in its greatest 
singleness and purity. If by any investigations, inven- 
tions, or discussions we can improve his art to the ideal 
pitch, we shall have done nearly all that can be re- 
quired of a science and art of Education. 

I return to the greater difficulty — namely, the ques- 
tion what is the end of all teaching ; or, if the end be 
human happiness and perfection, what definite guidance 
does this furnish to the educator ? I have already re- 
marked that the inquiry is acknowledged to belong to 
other departments ; and, if in these departments clear 
and unanimous answers have not been arrived at, the 
educationist is not bound to make good the deficiency. 



THE WORK OF THE SCHOOL. 7 

For this emergency, there is one thing obvious 
another less obvious; the two together exhausting the 
resources of the educator. 

The obvious thing is to fix upon whatever matters 
people are agreed upon. Of such the number is con- 
siderable, and the instances important. They make the 
universal topics of the schools. 

The less obvious thing is, with reference to matters 
not agreed upon, that the educator should set forth at 
what cost these doubtful acquisitions would have to be 
made ; for the cost must be at least one element in the 
decision respecting them. Whoever knows most about 
Education is best able to say how far its appliances can 
cope with such aims as softening the manners, securing 
self-renunciation, bringing about the balanced action of 
all the powers, training the whole man, and so forth. 

We shall see that one part of the science of Educa- 
tion consists in giving the ultimate analysis of all com- 
plex growths. It is on such an analysis that the cost 
can be calculated ; and, by means of this, we can best 
observe whether contradictory demands are made upon 
the educator. 

What we have been drifting to, in our search for an 
aim, is the work of the school. This may want a little 
more paring and rounding to give it scientific form, but 
it is the thing most calculated to fix and steady our 
vision at the outset. 

Now, for the success of the schoolmaster's work, the 
first and central fact is the plastic property of the mind 
itself. On this depends the acquisition not simply of 
knowledge but of everything that can be called an ac- 



8 DEFINITIONS OF EDUCATION. 

quisition. The most patent display of the property con- 
sists in memory for knowledge imparted. In this view 
the leading inquiry in the art of Education is how to 
strengthen memory. We are therefore led to take 
account of the several mental aptitudes that either 
directly or indirectly enter into the retentive function. 
In other words, we must draw upon the science of the 
human mind for whatever that science contains respect- 
ing the conditions of memory. 

Although memory, acquisition, retentiveness, depends 
mainly upon one unique property of the intellect, which 
accordingly demands to be scrutinised with the utmost 
care, there are various other properties, intellectual and 
emotional, that aid in the general result, and to each of 
these regard must be had, in a Science of Education. 

We have thus obtained the clue to one prime division 
of the subject — the purely psychological part. Of no 
less consequence is another department at present with- 
out a name — an inquiry into the proper or natural order 
of the different subjects, grounded on their relative 
simplicity or complexity, and their mutual dependence. 
It is necessary to success in Education that a subject 
should not be presented to the pupil until all the pre- 
paratory subjects have been mastered. This is obvious 
enough in certain cases : arithmetic is taken before 
algebra, geometry before tuigonometry, inorganic che- 
mistry before organic ; but in many cases the proper 
order is obscured by circumstances, and is an affair of 
very delicate consideration. I may call this the Analytic 
or Logical branch of the theory of Education. 

It is a part of scientific method to take strict account 
of leading terms, by a thorough and exhaustive inquiry 



UNION OF EXPERIENCE AND THEORY. 9 

into the meanings of all such. The settlement of many 
questions relating to education is embarrassed by the 
vagueness of the single term ' discipline.' 

Further, it ought to be pointed out, as specially ap- 
plicable to our present subject, that the best attainable 
knowledge on anything is due to a combination of 
general principles obtained from the sciences, with well- 
conducted observations and experiments made in actual 
practice. On every great question there should be a 
convergence of both lights. The technical expression 
for this is ' the union of the Deductive and Inductive 
Methods.' The deductions are to be obtained apart, in 
their own way, and with all attainable precision. The 
inductions are the maxims of practice — purified, in the 
first instance, by wide comparison and by the requisite 
precautions. 

I thus propose to remove from the Science of Educa- 
tion matters belonging to much wider departments of 
human conduct, and to concentrate the view upon what 
exclusively pertains to Education — the means of build- 
ing up the acquired powers of human beings. The com- 
munication of knowledge is the ready type of the process, 
but the training operation enters into parts of the mind 
not intellectual — the activities and the emotions ; the 
same forces, however, being at work. 

Education does not embmce the employment oiall our 
intellectual functions. There is a different art for directing 
the faculties in productive labour ; as, for example, in the 
professions, in the original investigations of the man of 
science, in the creations of the artist. The principles of 
the human mind are applicable to both departments, but 
although the two come into occasional contact, they are 



lO DEFINITIONS OF EDUCATION. 

SO far distinct that there is an advantage in viewing 
them separateiy. In the practical treatise of Locke, 
entitled * The Conduct of the Understanding,' acquisi- 
tion, production, and invention are handled promis- 
cuously. 



CHAPTER II. 

BEAAViVGS OF PHYSIOLOGY. 

The science of Physiology, coupled with the accumu- 
lated empirical observations of past ages, is the theo- 
retical guide in finding out how to rear living beings to 
the full maturity of their physical powers. This, as we 
have said, is quite distinct from the process of Educa- 
tion. 

The art of Education assumes a certain average 
physical health, and does not inquire into the means of 
keeping up or increasing that average. Its point of 
contact with physiology and hygiene is narrowed to the 
plastic or acquisitive function of the brain — the property 
of cementing the nervous connections that underlie 
memory, habit, and acquired power. 

But as Physiology now stands, we soon come to the 
end of its applications to the husbanding of the plastic 
faculty. The inquiry must proceed upon our direct 
experience in the work of education, with an occasional 
check or caution from the established physiological laws. 
Still, it would be a forgetting of mercies to undervalue 
the results accruing to education from the physiological 
doctrine of the physical basis of memory. 

On this subject, physiology teaches the general fact 



12 BEARINGS OF PHYSIOLOGY. 

that memory reposes upon a nervous property or power, 
sustained, like every other physical power, by nutrition, 
and having its alternations of exercise and rest. It also 
informs us thai, like every other function, the plasti- 
city may be stunted by inaction, and impaired by over- 
exertion. 

As far as pure physiology is concerned, I would draw 
attention to one circumstance in particular. The human 
body is a great aggregate of organs or interests — diges- 
tion, respiration, muscles, senses, brain. When fatigue 
overtakes it, the organs generally suffer ; when renova- 
tion has set in, the organs generally are invigorated. 
This is the first and most obvious consequence. We 
have next to add the qualifying consideration that human 
beings are unequally constituted as regards the various 
functions ; some being strong in stomach, others in 
muscle, others in brain. In all such persons the general 
invigoration is equally shown ; the favoured organs re- 
ceive a share proportioned to their respective capitals : 
to him that hath shall be given. Still more pertinent is 
the further qualification, that the organ that happens 
to be most active at the time receives more than its 
share ; to exercise the several organs unequally is to 
nourish them unequally. 

Now comes the important point. To increase the 
plastic property of the mind, you must nourish the brain. 
You naturally expect that this result will ensue when 
the body generally is nourished : and so it will, if there 
be no exorbitant demands on the part of other organs, 
giving them such a preference as to leave very little for 
the organ of the mind. If the muscles or the digestion 
are unduly drawn upon, the brain will not respond to 



BASIS OF THE RETENTIVE POWER. 1 3 

the drafts made upon it. Obversely, if the brain is con- 
stituted by nature, or excited by stimulation, so as to 
absorb the lion's share of the nutriment, the opposite 
results will appear ; the mental functions will be exalted, 
and the other interests more or less impoverished. This 
is the situation for an abundant display of mental 
force. 

But we must further distinguish the mental functions 
themselves ; for these are very different and mutually 
exclusive. Great refinement in the subdivisions is not 
necessary for the illustration. The broadest contrast is 
the emotional and the intellectual — feeling as pleasure, 
pain, or excitement, and feeling as knowledge. These 
two in extreme manifestation are hostile to each other : 
under excessive emotional excitement the intellect 
suffers ; under great intellectual exertion the emotions 
subside (with limitations unnecessary for our purpose). 

But Intellect in the largest sense is not identical with 
the retentive or plastic operation. The laws of this 
peculiar phase of our intelligence are best obtained by 
studying it as a purely mental fact. Yet there is a 
physiological way of looking at it that is strongly con- 
firmative of our psychological observations. On the 
physical or physiological side, memory or acquisition is 
a series of new nervous growths, the establishment of a 
number of beaten tracks in certain lines of the cerebral 
substance. Now, the presumption is, that as regards the 
claim for nourishment this is the most costly of all the 
processes of the intelligence. To exercise a power once 
acquired should be a far easier thing, much less expen- 
sive, than to build up a new acquirement. We may be 
in sufficiently good condition for the one, while wholly 



14 BEARINGS OF PHYSIOLOGY. 

out of condition for the other. Indeed, success in ac- 
quirement, looking at it according to the physiological 
probabilities, should be the work of rare, choice, and 
happy moments : times when cerebral vigour is both 
abundant and well-directed. 



CHAPTER III. 

BEARINGS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The largest chapter in the Science of Education must 
be the following out of all the psychological laws that 
bear directly or indirectly upon the process of mental 
acquirement. Every branch of Psychology will be found 
available ; but more especially the Psychology of the 
Intellect. Of the three great functions of the Intellect, 
in the ultimate analysis — Discrimination, Agreement, 
Retentiveness — the last is the most completely identified 
with the educative process; but the others enter in as 
constituents in a way peculiar to each. 

DISCRIMINATION. 

Mind starts from Discrimination. The consciousness 
of difference is the beginning of every intellectual exer- 
cise. To encounter a new impression is to be aware of 
change : if the heat of a room increases ten degrees, we 
are awakened to the circumstance by a change of feel- 
ing ; if we have no change of feeling, no altered con- 
sciousness, the outward fact is lost upon us : we take no 
notice of it, we are said not to know it. 

Our intelligence is, therefore, absolutely limited by 
our power of discrimination. The other function.s of in- 



l6 THE INTELLECT :— DISCRIMINATION. 

tellect, the Retentive power, for example, are not called 
into play, until we have first discriminated a number of 
things. If we did not originally feel the difference be- 
tween light and dark, black and white, red and yellow, 
there would be no visible scenes for us to remember : 
with the amplest endowment of Retentiveness, the outer 
world could not enter into our recollection ; the blank 
of sensation is a blank of memory. 

Yet further. The minuteness or delicacy of the feel- 
ing of difference is the measure of the variety and mul- 
titude of our primary impressions, and, therefore, of our 
stored-up recollections. He that hears only twelve dis- 
criminated notes on the musical scale, has his remem- 
brance of sounds bounded by these ; he that feels a 
hundred sensible differences, has his ideas or recollections 
of sounds multiplied in the same proportion. The re- 
tentive power works up to the height of the discrimina- 
tive power ; it can do no more. 

We have by nature a certain power of discrimination 
in each department of our sensibility. We can from the 
outset discriminate, more or less delicately, sights, sounds, 
touches, smells, tastes ; and, in each sense, some persons 
much more than others. This is the deepest foundation 
of disparity of intellectual character, as well as of variety 
in likings and pursuits. If, from the beginning, one man 
can interpolate five shades of discrimination of colour 
where another can feel but one transition, the careers of 
the two men are foreshadowed and will be widely apart. 

To observe this native inequality is important in 
predestining the child to this or that line of special train- 
ing. For the actual work of teaching, it is of more con- 
sequence to note the ways and means of quickening and 



CONDITIONS OF DISCRIMINATION. 1 7 

increasing the discriminating aptitude. Bearing in mind 
the fact that, until a difference is felt between two things, 
intelligence has not yet made the first step, the teacher 
is bound to consider the circumstances or conditions 
favourable and unfavourable to the exercise. 

(i) It is not peculiar to discrimination, but is com- 
mon to every intellectual function, to lay down, as a first 
condition, mental vigour, freshness, and wakefulness. In 
a low state of the mental forces, in languor, or drowsi- 
ness, differences cannot be felt. That the mind should 
be alive, awake, in full force and exercise, is necessary 
for every kind of mental work. The teacher needs to 
quicken the mental alertness by artificial means when 
there is a dormancy of mere indolence. He has to 
waken the pupil from the state significantly named in- 
difference, the state where differing impressions fail to be 
recognised as distinct. 

(2) The mind may be fresh and alive, but its ener- 
gies may be taking the wrong direction. There is a 
well-known antithesis or opposition between the emo- 
tional and the intellectual activities, leading to a certain 
incompatibility of the two. Under emotional excite- 
ment, the intellectual energies are enfeebled in amount, 
and enslaved to the reigning emotion. It is in the quieter 
states of mind that discrimination, in common with other 
intellectual powers, works to advantage. I will after- 
wards discuss more minutely the very delicate matter of 
the management of the various emotions in the work of 
teaching. 

(3) It must not be forgotten that intellectual exer- 
cises are in themselves essentially insipid, unattractive. 
As exertion, they impart a certain small degree of the 



l8 THE INTELLECT : — DISCRIMINATION. 

delight that always attends the healthy action of an 
exuberant faculty ; but this supposes their later develop- 
ments, and is not a marked peculiarity in the child's 
commencing career. The first circumstance that gives 
an interest to discrimination is pleasurable or painful 
stimulus. Something must hang on a difference before 
the mind is made energetically awake to it. A thoroughly 
uninteresting difference is not an object of attention to 
anyone. 

The transitions from cold to hot. dark to light, strain 
to relief, hunger to repletion, silence to sound, are all 
more or less interesting, and more or less impressive. 
But then they are vehement and sensational. It is ne- 
cessary, in order to the furnishing of the intelligence, 
that smaller and less sensational transitions should be 
felt ; the intellectual nature is characterized by requiring 
the least amount of emotional flash in order to impress 
a difference. A loud and furious demonstration will 
certainly compel attention and end in the feeling of 
difference, but at too much cost. 

(4) The great practical aid to the discovery and the 
retention of difference is immediate succession, or, what 
comes to the same thing, close juxtaposition. A rapid 
transition makes evident a difference that would not be 
felt after an interval, still less if anything else were 
allowed to occupy the mind in the meantime. This fact 
is sufficiently obvious, and is turned to account in easy 
cases ; but is far from being thoroughly worked out by 
the teacher and the expositor. Any trifling diversion 
will suffice to blind us to its importance. 

We compare two notes by sounding them in close 
succession ; two shades of colour by placing them side 



DEVICE OF JUXTAPOSITION. 1 9 

by side ; two weights by holding them in the two hands, 
and attending to the two feelings by turns. These are 
the plain instances. The comparison of forms leads to 
complications, and we cease to attempt the same kind 
of comparison. For mere length we lay the two things 
alongside ; so for an angle. For number, we can place 
two groups in contiguous rows — three by the side of four 
or five — and observe the surplus. 

Mere size is an affair of simple juxtaposition. Form, 
irrespective of size, is less approachable. A triangle and 
a quadrangle are compared by counting the sides, and 
resolving the difference of form into the simpler element 
of difference of number. A right-angled, an acute-angled, 
an isosceles triangle, must be compared by the juxta- 
position of angles. A circle and an oval are contrasted by 
the curvature and the diameters ; in the one, the curva- 
ture uniform, and the diameters equal ; in the other, the 
curvature varying, and the diameters unequal. The dif- 
ference between a close and an open curve is palpable 
enough. J^- 

The geometrical forms are thus resolvable into very 
simple bases of comparison ; and the teacher must ana- 
lyze them in the manner now stated. For the irregular 
and capricious forms, the elementary conceptions are 
still the same — lineal size, number, angular size, curva- 
ture ; but the mode of guiding the attention may be 
various. Sometimes there is a strong and overpowering 
similarity, with a small and unconspicuous difference, as 
in our ciphers (compare 3 and 5), and in the letters of 
our alphabet (C, G), and still more in the Hebrew alpha 
bet. For such comparisons, the difference, such as it is, 
needs to be very clearly drawn or even exaggerated. 



20 THE INTELLECT: — RETENTIVENESS. 

Another method is to have models of the same size to 
lay over one another, so as to bring out the difference 
through juxtaposition. By a specific effort, the teacher 
calls on the learner to view, with single-minded atten- 
tion, the differing circumstance, and afterwards to re- 
produce it by his own hand. One express lesson consists 
in asking the pupil what are the ciphers, or the letters, 
that are nearly alike, and what are the points of dif- 
ference. 

The higher arts of comparison to impress difference 
are best illustrated when both differences and agreements 
have to be noted. They will have to be resumed after 
the discussion of the intellectual force of Agreement or 
Similarity. The chief stress of the present explanation 
lies in regarding Discrimination as the necessary prelude 
of every intellectual impression, as the basis of our stored- 
up knowledge, or memory. Agreement is presupposed 
likewise ; but there is not the same necessity, nor is it 
expedient, to follow out the workings of Agreement, 
before considering the plastic power of the intellect. 

THE RETENTIVE FACULTY. 

This is the faculty that most of all concerns us in 
the work of Education. On it rests the possibility of 
mental growths ; in other words, capabilities not given 
by nature. 

Every impression made upon us, if sufficient to 
awaken consciousness at the time, has a certain perma- 
nence ; it can persist after the original ceases to work ; 
and it can be restored afterwards as an idea or remem- 
bered impression. The bursting out of a flame arouses 



FIRST LAW OF MEMORY. 21 

our attention, gives a strong visible impression, and 
becomes an idea or deposit of memory. The flame is 
thought of afterwards without being actually seen. 

It is not often that one single occurrence leaves a 
permanent and recoverable idea ; usually, we need several 
repetitions for the purpose. The process of fixing the 
impression occupies a certain length of time ; either we 
must prolong the first shock, or renew it on several 
successive occasions. This is the first law of Memory, 
Retention, or Acquisition : ' Practice makes perfection ;' 
'Exercise is the means of strengthening a faculty;' 
and so forth. The good old rule of the schoolmaster 
is simply to make the pupil repeat, rehearse, or persist 
at, a lesson, until it is learnt. 

All improvement in the art of teaching depends on 
the attention that we give to the various circumstances 
that facilitate acquirement, or lessen the number of repe- 
titions for a given effect. Much is possible in the way 
of economizing the plastic power of the human system ; 
and when we have pushed this economy to the utmost, 
we have made perfect the Art of Education in one lead- 
ing department. It is thus necessary that the considera- 
tion of all the known conditions that favour or impede 
the plastic growth of the system should be searching and 
minute. 

Although some philosophers have taught that all 
minds are nearly equal in regard to facility of acquire- 
ment, a schoolmaster that would say so must be of the 
very rudest type. The inequality of different minds in 
imbibing lessons, under the very same circumstances, 
is a glaring fact ; and is one of the obstacles encoun- 
tered in teaching numbers together, that is, classes. It 



22 THE INTELLECT:— RETENTIVENESS. 

is a difficulty that needs a great deal of practical tact or 
management, and is not met by any educational theory. 
The different kinds of acquirements vary in minor 
circumstances, which call for notice after we have ex- 
hausted the general or pervading conditions. The 
greatest contrast is between what belongs to Intelligence, 
and what belongs to the Feelings and the Will. The 
more strictly Intellectual department comprises Mecha- 
nical Art, Language, the Sensible World, the Sciences, 
Fine Art ; each having their specialities. 

General Circumstances Favouring Retentiveness. 

I. The Physical condition. This has been already 
touched upon, both in the review of Physiology, and in 
the remarks on Discrimination. It includes general 
health, vigour, and freshness at the moment, together 
with the further indispensable proviso, that the nutrition, 
instead of being drafted off to strengthen the mere phy- 
sical functions, is allowed to run in good measure to the 
brain. 

In the view of mental efficiency, the muscular system, 
the digestive system, and the various organic interests, 
are to be exercised up to the point that conduces to the 
maximum of general vigour in the system, and no 
farther. They may be carried farther in the interest of 
sensual enjoyment, but that is not now before us. Hence 
a man must exercise his muscles, must feed himself libe- 
rally, and give time to digestion to do its work, must rest 
adequately — all for the greatest energy of the mind, and 
for the trying work of education in particular. Nor is it 
so very difficult, in the present state of physiological and 



PHYSICAL SUPPORT OF RETENTIVENESS. 23 

medical knowledge, to assign the reasonable proportions 
in all these matters, for a given case. 

Everything tends to show that, in the mere physical 
point of view, the making of impressions on the brain, 
although never remitted during any of our waking 
moments, is exceedingly unequal at different times. We 
must be well aware that there are moments when we are 
incapable of receiving any lasting impressions, and that 
there are moments when we are unusually susceptible. 
The difference is not one wholly resolvable into more 
mental energy on the whole ; we may have a considerable 
reserve offeree for other mental acts, as the performance 
of routine offices, and not much for retaining new im- 
pressions ; we are capable of reading, talking, writing, 
and of taking an interest in the exercises ; we may in- 
dulge emotions, and carry out pursuits, and yet not be 
in a state for storing the memory, or amassing know- 
ledge. Even the incidents that we take part in some- 
times fail to be remembered beyond a very short time. 

What, then, is there so very remarkable and unique 
in the physical support of the plastic property of the 
brain } What are the moments when it is at the pleni- 
tude of its efficiency .'' Wliat are the things that espe- 
cially nourish and conserve it .'' 

Although there is still wanting a careful study of 
this whole subject, the patent facts appear to justify us 
in asserting, that the plastic or retentive function is the 
very highest eiiergy of the brain, the consummation of 
nervous activity. To drive home a new bent, to render 
an impression self-sustaining and recoverable, uses up 
(we may suppose) more brain force than any other kind 
of mental exercise. The moments of susceptibility to 



24 THE INTELLECT : — RETENTIVENESS. 

the storing up of knowledge, to the engraining of habits 
and acquisitions, are thus the moments of the maximum 
of unexpended force. The circumstances need to be 
such as to prepare the way for the highest manifestation 
of cerebral energy ; including the perfect freshness of 
the system, and the absence of everything that would 
speedily impair it. 

To illustrate this position, I may refer to the kind of 
mental work that appears to be second in its demand on 
the energy of the brain. The exercise of mental con- 
structiveness — the solving of new problems, the applying 
of rules to new cases, the intellectual labour of the more 
arduous professions, as the law — demands no little men- 
tal strain, and is easy according to the brain vigour of 
the moment. Still, these are exercises that can be per- 
formed with lower degrees of power ; we are capable of 
such professional work in moments when our memory 
would not take in new and lasting impressions. In old 
age, when we cease to be educable in any fresh endow- 
ment, we can still perform these constructive exercises ; 
we can grapple with new questions, invent new argu- 
ments and illustrations, decide what should be done in 
original emergencies. 

The constructive energy has all degrees, from the 
highest flights of invention and imagination down to the 
point where construction shades off into literal repetition 
of what has formerly been done. The preacher in com- 
posing a fresh discourse puts forth more or less of con- 
structiveness : in repeating prayers and formularies, in 
reading from book, there is only reminiscence. This last 
is the third and least exigent form of mental energy ; it 
is possible in the very lowest states of cerebral vigour. 



INFERIOR MODES OF MENTAL ENERGY. 2$ 

When acquisition is fruitless, construction is possible ; 
when a slight departure from the old routine passes 
the might of the intelligence, literal reminiscence may- 
operate, y 

Another mode of mental energy that we are equal 
to, when the freshness of our susceptibility to new growths 
has gone off, is searching and noting. This needs a cer- 
tain strain of attention ; it is not possible in the very 
lowest tide of the nervous flow ; but it may be carried 
on with all but the smallest degrees of brain power. 
When the scholar or the man of science ceases to trust 
his memory implicitly for retaining new facts that occur 
in his reading, observation, or reflection, he can still keep 
a watch for them, and enter them in his notes. So in 
the hours of the day when memory is less to be trusted, 
useful study may still be maintained by the help of the 
memorandum and the note-book. 

The indulgence of the emotions (when not violent or 
excessive) is about the least expensive of our mental 
exercises, and may go on when we are unfit for any of 
the higher intellectual moods, least of all for the crown- 
ing work of storing up new knowledge or new aptitudes. 
There are degrees here also ; but, speaking generally, to 
love or to hate, to dominate or to worship, although im- 
possible in the lowest depths of debility, are within the 
scope of the inferior grades of nervous power. 

From this estimate of comparative outlay, we may 
judge what are the times and seasons and circumstances 
most favourable to the work of acquirement. It may 
be assumed that in the early part of the day the total 
energy of the system is at its height, and that towards 
evening it flags ; hence morning is the season of im- 



26 THE INTELLECT : — RETENTIVENESS. 

provement. For two or three hours after the first meal, 
the strength is probably at the highest ; total remission 
for another hour or two, and a second meal (with phy- 
sical exercise when the labour has been sedentary), pre- 
pare for a second display of vigour, although presumably 
not equal to the first, except in youthful years ; when 
the edge of this is worn off, there may, after a pause, be 
another bout of application, but far inferior in result to 
the first or even to the second. No severe effort should 
be attempted in this last stage ; not much stress should 
be placed on the available plasticity of the system, 
although the constructive and routine efforts may still 
be kept up. 

The regular course of the day may be interfered with 
by exceptional circumstances, but these only confirm 
the rule. If we have lain idle or inactive for the early 
hours, we may, of course, be fresher in the evening, but 
the late application will not make up for the loss of the 
early hours ; the nervous energy will gradually subside 
as the day advances, however little exertion we may 
make. Again, we may at any time determine an out- 
burst of nervous energy by persistent exercise and by 
stimulation, which draws blood to the brain, without 
regard to circumstances and seasons, but this is wasteful 
in itself and disturbing to the healthy functions. 

As a general rule, the system is at its greatest vigour 
in the cold season of the year ; and most work is done 
in winter. Summer studies are comparatively unpro 
ductive. 

The review of the varying plasticity in the different 
stages of life might be conducted on the same plan of 
estimating the collective forces of the system, and the 



CONCENTRATION. 2f 

share of these available for brain work, but other circum- 
stances have to be taken into the account, and I do not 
enter upon the question here. 

There are many details in the economy of the plastic 
power that have a physical as well as a mental aspect. 
Such are those relating to the strain and remission of 
the Attention, to the pauses and alternations during the 
times of drill, to the moderating of the nervous excite- 
ment, and other matters. These should all find a place 
under the head of the Retentive function. It is expe- 
dient now to take up the consideration of the subject 
from the purely mental side. 

/ 2. The one circumstance that sums up all the 
mental aids to plasticity is CONCENTRATION. A cer- 
tain expenditure of nervous power is involved in every 
adhesion, every act of impressing the memory, every 
communicated bias ; and the more the better. This 
supposes, however, that we should withdraw the forces, 
for the time, from every other competing exercise ; and 
especially, that we should redeem all wasting expendi- 
ture for the purpose in view. 

It is requisite, therefore, that the circumstances lead- 
ing to the concentration of the mind should be well 
understood. We assume that there is power available 
for the occasion, and we seek to turn it into the proper 
channel. Now, there is no doubt that the will is the 
chief intervening influence, and the chief stimulants of 
the will are, as we know, pleasure and pain. This is the 
rough view of the case. A little more precision is attain- 
able through our psychological knowledge. 

And first, the Will itself as an operating or directing 
power, that is to say, the moving of the organs in a given 



28 THE INTELLECT: — RETENTIVENESS. 

way under a motive, is a growth or culture ; it is very- 
imperfect at first, and improves by usage. A child of 
twelve months cannot by any inducement be prompted 
readily to clap its hands, to point with its forefinger, to 
touch the tip of its nose, to move its left shoulder for- 
ward. The most elementary acts of the will, the alphabet 
of all the higher acquisitions, have first to be learned in 
a way of their own ; and until they have attained a suffi- 
cient advancement, so as to be amenable to the spur of 
a motive, the teacher has nothing to go upon. 

I have elsewhere described this early process, as I 
conceive it, in giving an account of the development of 
the Will. In the practice of education, it is a matter of 
importance as showing at what time mechanical instruc- 
tion is possible, and what impedes its progress at the 
outset, notwithstanding the abundance of plasticity in 
the brain itself. The disciplining of the organs to follow 
directions would seem to be the proper province of the 
Infant school. 

Coming now to the influences of concentration, we 
assign the first place to intrinsic charm, or pleasure in the 
act itself The law of the Will, on its side of greatest 
potency, is — that Pleasure sustains the movement that 
brings it. The whole force of the mind at the moment 
goes with the pleasure-giving exercise. The harvest of 
immediate pleasure stimulates our most intense exer- 
tions, if exertion serves to prolong the blessing. So it is 
with the deepening of an impression, the confirming of a 
bent or bias, the associating of a couple or a sequence of 
acts ; a coinciding burst of joy awakens the attention, 
and thus leads to an enduring stamp on the mental 
framework. 



CONCENTRATION UNDER PLEASURE. 29 

The engraining efficiency of the pleasurable motive 
requires not only that we should not be carried off into an 
accustomed routine of voluntary activities, such as to give 
to the forces another direction, as when we pace to and 
fro in a flower garden ; but also that the pleasure should 
not be intense and tumultuous. The law of the mutual 
exclusion of great pleasure and great intellectual exer- 
tion forbids the employment of too much excitement of 
any kind, when we aim at the most exacting of all 
mental results — the forming of new adhesive growths. 
A gentle pleasure that for the time contents us, there 
being no great temptation at hand, is the best foster- 
mother of our efforts at learning. Still better, if it be 
a growing pleasure ; a small beginning, with steady in- 
crease, never too absorbing, is the best of all stimulants 
to mental power. In order to have a yet wider compass 
of stimulation, without objectionable extremes, we might 
begin on the negative side, that is, in pain or privation, 
to be gradually remitted in the course of the studious 
exercise, giving place at last to the exhilaration of a 
waxing pleasure. All the great teachers, from Socrates 
downwards, seem to recognize the necessity of putting 
the learner into a state of pain to begin with ; a fact 
that we are by no means to exult over, although we may 
have to admit the stern truth that is in it. The influence 
of pain, however, takes a wider range than is here sup- 
posed, as will be seen under our next head. 

A moderate exhilaration and cheerfulness growing 
out of the act of learning itself is certainly the most 
genial, the most effectual means of cementing the unions 
that we desire to form in the mind. This is meant when 
we speak of the learner having a taste for his pursuit, 



30 THE INTELLFXT : — RETENTIVENESS. 

having the heart in it, learning con amoi'c. The fact is 
perfectly well known ; the error, in connection with it, 
lies in dictating or enjoining this state of mind on every- 
body in every situation, as if it could be commanded by 
a wish, or as if it were not itself an expensive endow- 
ment. The brain cannot yield an exceptional pleasure 
without charging for it. 

Next to pleasure in the actual, as a concentrating 
motive, is pleasure in prospect, the learning of what is to 
bring us some future gratification. The stimulus has the 
inferiority attaching to the idea of pleasure as compared 
with the reality. Still it may be of various degrees, and 
may rise to a considerable pitch of force. Parents often 
reward their children with coins for success in their 
lessons ; the conception of the pleasure in this case is 
nearly equal to a present tremor of sense-delight. On 
the other hand, the promises of fortune and distinction, 
after a long interval of years, have seldom much influ- 
ence in concentrating the mind towards a particular 
study. 

Let us now view the operation of Pain. By the law of 
the will, pain makes us recoil from the thing that causes 
it. A painful study repels us, just as an agreeable one 
attracts and detains us. The only way that pain can 
operate is when it is attached to neglect, or to departure 
from the prescribed subject ; we then find pleasure, by 
comparison, in sticking to our task. This is the theory 
of punishing the want of application. It is in every way 
inferior to the other motives ; and this inferiority should 
be always kept in view in employing it, as indeed every 
teacher must often do with the generality of scholars. 
Pain is a waste of brain-power ; while the work of the 



CONCENTRATION UNDER PAIN. 3 1 

learner needs the very highest form of this power. 
Punishment works at a heavy percentage of deduction, 
which is still greater as it passes into the well-defined 
form of terror. Everyone has experienced cases where 
severity has rendered a pupil utterly incapable of the 
work prescribed. 

Discarding all a priori theories as to whether the 
human mind can be led on to study by an ingenious 
system of pleasurable attractions, we are safe to affirm 
that if the physical conditions are properly regarded, if 
the work is within the compass of the pupil's faculties, 
and if a fair amount of assistance is rendered in the way 
of intelligible direction, although some sort of pain will 
frequently be necessary, it ought not to be so great as 
to damp the spirits and waste the plastic energy. 

The line of remark is exactly the same for pain in 
prospect, with allowance for the difference between 
reality and the idea. It is well when prospective pain 
has the power of a motive, because the future bad con- 
sequences of neglect are so various and so considerable, 
as to save the resort to any other. But since the young 
intelligence in general is weak in the sense of futurity, 
whether for good or for evil, none but very near, very 
intelligible, and very certain pains can take the place of 
presently acting deterrents. 

In the study of the human mind, we need, for many 
purposes, to draw a subtle distinction between feeling as 
Pleasure or Pain, and feeling as Excitement not neces- 
sarily pleasurable or painful. This subtlety cannot be 
dispensed with in our present subject. There is a form 
of mental concentration that is properly termed excite- 
ment, and is not properly termed pleasurable or painful 



32 THE INTELLECT : — RETENTIVENESS. 

excitement. A loud or sudden shock, a rapid whirling 
movement, stirs, wakens, or excites us ; it may also give 
us pleasure or pain, but it may be perfectly neutral ; and 
even when there is pleasure or pain, there is an influence 
apart from what would belong to pleasure or pain, as 
such. A state of excitement seizes hold of the mind for 
the time being and shuts out other mental occupations ; 
we are engrossed with the subject that brought on the 
state, and are not amenable to extraneous influences, 
until that has subsided. Hence, excitement is pre- 
eminently a means of making an impression, of stamp- 
ing an idea in the mind : it is strictly an intellectual 
stimulus. There is still the proviso (under the general 
law of incompatibility of the two opposite moods) that 
the excitement must not be violent and wasting. In 
well-understood moderation, excitement is identical with 
attention, mental engrossment, the concentration of the 
forces upon the plastic or cementing operation, the ren- 
dering permanent as a recollection what lies in the focus 
of the blaze. Excitement, so defined, is worthless as an 
end, but is valuable as a means ; and that means is the 
furtherance of our mental improvement by driving home 
some useful concatenation of ideas. 

Another subtlety remains — a distinction within a 
distinction. After contrasting feeling as excitement 
with feeling as pleasure or pain, we must separate the 
useful from the useless or even pernicious modes of 
excitement. The useful excitement is what is narrowed 
and confined to the subject to be impressed ; the useless, 
and worse than useless, excitement is what spreads far 
and wide, and embraces nothing in particular. It is 
easy to get up the last-named species of excitement — 



CONCENTRATION UNDER EXCITEMENT. 33 

the vague, scattered, and tumultuous mode— but this is 
not of avail for any set purpose ; it may be counted 
rather as a distracting agency than as a means of calling 
forth and concentrating the attention upon an exercise. 

The true excitement for the purpose in view is what 
grows out of the very subject itself, embracing and ad- 
hering to that subject. Now, for this kind of excitement, 
the recipe is continuous application of the mind in per- 
fect outside stillness. Restrain all other solicitation of 
the senses, keep the attention upon the one act to be 
learnt ; and, by the law of nervous and mental persist- 
ence, the currents of the brain will become gradually 
stronger and stronger, until they have reached the point 
when they do no more good for the time. This is the 
ideal of concentration by neutral excitement. 

The enemy of such happy neutrality is pleasure from 
without ; and the youthful mind cannot resist the dis- 
traction of a present pleasure, or even the scent of a far- 
off pleasure. The schoolroom is purposely screened from 
the view of what is going on outside ; while all internal 
incidents that hold out pleasurable diversion are care- 
fully restrained, at least during the crisis of a difficult 
lesson. A touch of pain, or the apprehension of it, if 
ouly slight, is not unfavourable to the concentration. 

An important point is still to be observed, namely, 
that relationship of Retention to Discrimination that 
was stated in introducing the function of Discrimination. 
The consideration of this relationship illustrates with 
still greater point the true character of the excitement 
that concentrates and does not either distract or dissipate 
the energies. The moment of a delicate discrimination 
is the moment when the intellectual force is dominant ; 



34 THE INTELLECT : — RETENTIVENESS. 

emotion spurns nice distinctions, and incapacitates the 
mind for feeling them. The quiescence and stillness of 
the emotions enables the mind to give its full energies 
to the intellectual processes generally ; and of these, the 
fundamental is perception of difference. Now, the more 
mental force we can throw into the act of noting a differ- 
ence, the better is that difference felt, and tJie better it is 
impressed. The same act that favours discrimination, 
favours retention. The two cannot be kept separate. 
No law of the intellect appears to be more certain than 
the law that connects our discriminating power with our 
retentive power. In whatever class of subjects our dis- 
crimination is great — colours, forms, tones, tastes — in 
that class our retention is great. Whenever the atten- 
tion can be concentrated on a subject in such a way as 
to make us feel all its delicate lineaments, which is 
another way of stating the sense of differences, through 
that very circumstance a great impression is made on 
the memory ; there is no more favourable moment for 
engraining a recollection. 

The perfection of neutral excitement, therefore, is 
typified by the intense rousing of the forces in an act, or 
a series of acts, of discrimination. If by any means we 
can succeed in this, we are sure that the other intellec- 
tual consequences will follow. It is a rare and difficult 
attainment in childhood and early youth : the conditions, 
positive and negative, for its highest consummation can- 
not readily be had. Yet we should know what these 
conditions are ; and the foregoing attempt has been 
made to seize and embody them. 

Pleasure and pain, besides operating in their own 
character, that is, besides directing the voluntary actions, 



SHARPNESS OF TRANSITION. 35 

have a power as mere excitement, or as wakening up 
the mental blaze, during which all mental acts, including 
the impressing of the memory, are more effective. The 
distinction must still be drawn between concentrated 
and diffused excitement, between excitement in, and ex- 
citement away from, the work to be done. Pleasure is 
the more favourable adjunct, if not too great. Pain is 
the more stimulating or exciting : under a painful smart 
the forces are very rapidly quickened for all purposes, 
until we reach the point of wasteful dissipation. This 
brings us round again to the Socratic position, the pre- 
paring of the learner's mind by the torpedo or the gad-fly. 

The full compass of the operation of the painful 
stimulant is well shown in some of our most familiar 
experiences as learners. In committing a lesson to 
memory, we con it a number of times by the book : we 
then try without the book. We fail utterly, and are 
slightly pained by the failure. We go back to the book, 
and once more we try without it. We still fail, but rack 
the memory to recover the lost trains. The pains of 
failure and the act of straining stimulate the forces ; the 
attention is roused seriously and energetically. The 
next reference to the book finds us far more receptive 
of the impression to be made ; the weak links are now 
reinforced with avidity, and the next trial shows the 
value of the discipline that has been undergone. 

One remark more will cloee the view of the condi- 
tions of plasticity. It is, that Discrimination and Re- 
tentiveness have a common support in rapidity and 
sharpness of transition. A sharp and sudden change is 
commonly said to make a strong impression : the fact 
implied concerns discrimination and retention alike. 



36 THE INTELLECT: — SIMILARITY, OR AGREEMENT. 

Vague, shadowy, ill-defined boundaries fail to be dis- 
criminated, and the subjects of them are not remembered. 
The educator finds great scope for his art in this con- 
sideration also. 



SIMILARITY, OR AGREEMENT. 

It is neither an inapt nor a strained comparison to 
call this power the Law of Gravitation of the intellectual 
world. As regards the Understanding, it has an import- 
ance co-equal with the plastic force that is expressed by 
Retentiveness or Memory. The methods to be pur- 
sued in attaining the commanding heights of General 
Knowledge are framed by the circumstances attending 
the detection of Like in the midst of Unlike. 

With all the variety that there is in the world of our 
experience, a variety appealing to our consciousness of 
difference, there is also great Repetition, sameness or 
unity. There are many shades of colour, as distin- 
guished by the discriminative sensibility of the eye ; yet 
the same shade often recurs. There are many varieties 
of form — the round, the square, the spiral, &c. — and we 
discriminate them when they are contrasted ; while the 
same form starts up again and again. At first sight, 
this apparently means nothing at all ; the great matter 
would seem to be to avoid confounding differences — 
blue with violet, a circle with an oval ; when blue recurs, 
we simply treat it as we did at first. 

The remark is too hasty, and overlooks a vital 
consideration. What raises the principle of Similarity 
to its position of command is the accompaniment of 
diversity. The round form first discerned in a ring or a 



AGREEMENT IN DIVERSITY. 37 

halfpenny, recurs in the full moon, where the adjuncts 
are totally different and need to be felt as different. In 
spite of these disturbing accompaniments, it is impor- 
tant to feel the agreement on the single property called 
the round form. 

When an impression made in one situation is re- 
peated in an altered situation, the new experience 
reminds us of the old, notwithstanding the diversity ; 
this reminder may be described as a novel kind of shock, 
or awakened consciousness, called the shock or flash of 
identity in the midst of difference. A piece of coal and 
a piece of wood differ, and are at first looked upon as 
differing. Put into the fire, they both blaze up, give 
heat, and are consumed. Here is a shock of agreement, 
which becomes an abiding impression in connection 
with these two things. Of such shocks is made up one- 
half of what we term Knowledge. 

Whenever there is a difference it should be felt by 
us ; in like manner, whenever there is an agreement it 
should be felt. To overlook either one or the other is 
stupidity. Our education marches in both lines ; and, in 
so far as we are helped by the schoolmaster, we should 
be helped in both. The artifices that promote discri- 
mination, and the influences that thwart it, have been 
already considered ; and many of the observations apply 
also to Agreement. In the identifying of like in the 
midst of unlike, there are cases that are easy, and there 
are cases that the unassisted mind fails to perceive. 

I. We must repeat, with reference to the delicate 
perception of Agreements, the antithesis of the intel- 
lectual and the emotional outgoings. It is in the still- 
ness of the emotions that the higher intellectual exercises 



38 THE INTELLECT: — SIMILARITY, OR ARGEEMENT. 

are possible. This circumstance should operate as a 
warning against the too frequent recourse to pains and 
penalties, as well as against pleasurable and other ex- 
citement. But a more specific application remains. 

We may at once face the problem of General Know- 
ledge. The most troublesome half of the education of 
the intellect is the getting possession of generalities. 
A general fact, notion, or truth, is a fact recurring under 
various circumstances or accompaniments. * Heat ' is the 
name for one such generality. There are many individual 
facts greatly differing among themselves, but all agree- 
ing in the impression called heat — the sun, a fire, a lamp, 
a living animal. The intellect discerns, or is struck 
with, the agreement, notwithstanding the differences ; 
and in this discernment arrives at a general idea. 

Now the grand stumbling-block in the way of the 
generalizing impetus is the presence of the individual 
differences. These may be small and insignificant, or 
they may be very great. In comparing fires with one 
another, the agreement is striking, while the differences 
between one fire and another, in size, or intensity, or 
fuel, do not divert the attention from their agreement. 
But the discerning of sameness in the sun's ray and in 
a fermenting dung-heap is thwarted by the extraor- 
dinary disparity ; and this conflict between the sameness 
and the difference operates widely and retards the dis- 
covery of the most important truths. 

2. The device of juxtaposition applies to the ex- 
pounding of Agreement, no less than of Diti["erence. We 
can arrange the several agreeing facts in such a way that 
the agreement is more easily seen. The effect is gained 
partly by closeness, as in the case of differences, and 



DRIVING HOME A GENERALITY. 39 

partly by a symmetrical contact, as when we compare 
the two hands by placing them finger to finger, and 
thumb to thumb. Such symmetrical comparisons 
bring to view, in the same act, agreement and dif- 
ference. The method reaches far and wide, and is 
one of the most powerful artificial aids to the im- 
parting of knowledge 

3. The cumulation of the instances is essential to 
the driving home of a generality. A continuous undis- 
tracted iteration of the point of agreement is the only 
way to produce an adequate impression of a great 
general idea. I cannot now consider the various ob- 
stacles encountered in this attempt, nor explain how 
seldom it can be adhered to in the highest examples. 
It must suffice to remark that the interest special to the 
individual examples is perpetually carrying off the at- 
tention ; and pupil and master are both liable to be 
turned aside by the seduction. 

There is another aspect of the power of Similarity, 
under which it is a valuable aid to Memory or Reten- 
tion. When we have to learn an exercise absolutely 
new, we must engrain every step by the plastic adhesive- 
ness of the brain, and must give time and opportunity 
for the adhesive links to be matured. But when we 
come to an exercise containing parts already acquired 
by the plastic operation, we are saved the labour of 
forging fresh links as regards these, and need only to 
master what is new to us. When we have known all 
about one plant, we can easily learn the other plants of 
the same species or genus ; we need only to master the 
points of variety. 

The bearing of this circumstance on mental growth 



40 THE INTELLECT :—CONSTRUCTIVENESS. 

must be apparent at once. After a certain number of 
acquirements in the various regions of study — manual 
art, language, visible pictures — nothing that occurs is 
absolutely new ; the amount of novel matter is con- 
tinually decreasing as our knowledge increases. Our 
adhesive faculty is not improving as we grow in years ; 
very much the contrary : but our facility in imbibing 
new knowledge improves steadily ; the fact being that 
the knowledge is so little new that the forming of fresh 
adhesions is reduced to a very limited compass. The 
most original air of music that the most original genius 
could compose would be very soon learnt by an in- 
structed musician. 

In the practice of the schoolmaster's art, this great 
fact will be perpetually manifesting itself. The opera- 
tion can be aided and guided in those cases where the 
agreement really existing is not felt. It is one of the 
teaching devices, to make the pupils see the old in the 
new, as far as the agreement reaches ; and to pose them 
upon this very circumstance. The obstacles are the very 
same as already described, and the means of overcoming 
them the same. Orderly juxtaposition is requisite for 
matters of complexity ; and we may have also to coun- 
terwork the attractions of individuality.' 

CONSTRUCTIVENESS. 

In many parts of our education, the stress lies, not 
in simple memory, or the tenacious holding of what has 

' When educators prescribe, as a means of impressing the memory, the 
tracing of the relations of cause and effect, means and end, antecedent and 
consequent, the appeal is to agreement with some foregone impressions. 



SOMETHING TO CONSTRUCT FROM. 4 1 

been presented to the mind, but in making us perform 
some new operation, something that we were previously 
unable to do. Such are the first stages of our instruction 
in speaking, in writing, and in all the mechanical or 
manual arts. So also in the higher intellectual pro- 
cesses, as in the imagining of what we have not seen. 
I do not go so far as to include invention or discovery ; 
the culture of the creative faculty is not comprised in the 
present discussion. 

The psychology of Constructiveness is remarkably 
simple. There are certain primary conditions that run 
through all the cases ; and it is by paying due respect 
to these conditions that we can, as teachers, render every 
possible assistance to the struggling pupils. 

I. The constructive process supposes something to 
construct from ; some powers already possessed that can 
be exercised, directed, and combined in a new manner. 
We must walk before beginning to dance ; we must 
articulate simple sounds before we can articulate words ; 
we must draw straight strokes and pot-hooks before we 
can form letters ; we must conceive trees and shrubs, 
flowers and grassy plots, before we can conceive a 
garden. 

The practical inference is no less obvious and irre- 
sistible ; it is one that covers the whole field of edu- 
cation, and can never have been entirely neglected, 
although it has certainly never been fully carried out. 
Before entering on a new exercise, we must first be led 
up to it by mastering the preliminary or preparatory 
exercises. Teachers are compelled by their failures to 
attend to this fact in the more palpable exercises, as 
speaking and writing. They lose sight of it, when the 



42 THE INTELLECT: — CONSTRUCTIVENESS. 

succession of stages is too subtle for their apprehension, 
as in the understanding of scientific doctrines. 

2. In aiming at a new construction, we must clearly 
conceive what is aimed at ; we must have the means of 
judging whether or not our tentatives are successful. 
The child in writing has the copy lines before it ; the 
man in the ranks sees the fugleman, or hears the ap- 
proving or disapproving voice of the drill-sergeant. 
Where we have a very distinct and intelligible model 
before us, we are in a fair way to succeed ; in proportion 
as the ideal is dim and wavering, we stagger and mis- 
carry. When we depend upon a teacher's expressed 
approval of our efifort, it behoves him to be very consis- 
tent, as well as very sound, in his judgment ; should he 
be one thing to-day, and another thing to-morrow, we 
are unhinged and undone. 

It is a defect pertaining to all models that they con- 
tain individual peculiarities mixed up with the ideal 
intention. We carry away with us from every instructor 
touches of mannerism, and the worst of it is that some 
learners catch nothing but the mannerism ; this being 
generally easier to fall into than the essential merits 
of the teaching. There is no remedy here except the 
comparison of several good models ; as the ship-captain 
carries with him a number of chronometers. 

In following an unapproachable original, as in learn- 
ing to write from copperplate lines, we need a second 
judgment to inform us whether our deviations are serious 
and fundamental, or only venial and unavoidable. The 
good tact of our instructor is here put to the test ; he 
may make our path like the shining light that shineth 
more and more unto the perfect day, or he may leave us 



TRIAL AND ERROR. 43 

in hopeless perplexity. To point out to us where, 
how, and why we are wrong, is the teacher's most indis- 
pensable function. 

3. The only mode of arriving at a new constructive 
combination is to try and try again. The will initiates 
some movements ; these are found not to answer, and 
are suppressed ; others are tried, and so on, until the 
requisite combination has been struck out. The way to 
new powers is by trial and error. In proportion as the 
first and second conditions above given are realized, the 
unsuccessful trials are fewer. If we have been well led 
up to the combination required, and if we have before 
us a very clear idea of what is to be done, we do not 
need many tentatives ; the prompt suppression of the 
wrong movements ultimately lands us in the right. 

The mastering of a new manual combination, as in 
writing, in learning to swim, in the mechanical arts, — is 
a very trying moment to the human powers ; success 
involves all those favourable circumstances indicated in 
discussing the retentive or receptive faculty. Vigour, 
freshness, freedom from distraction, no strong or extra- 
neous emotions, motives to succeed, — are all most de- 
sirable in realizing a difficult combination. Fatigue, 
fear, flurry, or other wasting excitement, do away with 
the chances of success. 

Very often we have to give up the attempt for a 
time ; yet the ineffectual struggles are not entirely lost. 
We hav^e at least learnt to avoid a certain number of 
positions, and have narrowed the round of tentatives for 
the next occasion. If after two or three repetitions, 
with rest intervals, the desired combination does not 
emerge, it is a proof that some preparatory movement 



44 ALTERNATION AND REMISSION OF ACTIVITY. 

is wanting, and we should be made to retrace the ap- 
proaches. Perhaps we may have learnt the pre-requisite 
movements in a Avay, but not with sufficient firmness and 
certainty for securing their being performed in combi- 
nation. 

X ALTERNATION AND REMISSION OF ACTIVITY. 

In the accustomed routine of Education, a number 
of separate studies and acquirements are prosecuted 
together ; so that, for each day, a pupil may have to 
engage in as many as three, four, or more, different 
kinds of lessons. 

The principles that guide the alternation and remis- 
sion of our modes of exercise and application are ap 
parently these : — 

I. Sleep is the only entire and absolute cessation 
of the mental and bodily expenditure ; and perfect or 
dreamless sleep is the greatest cessation of all. What- 
ever shortens the due allowance of sleep, or renders it 
fitful and disturbed, or promotes dreaming, is so much 
force wasted. 

In the waking hours, there may be cessation from a 
given exercise, with more or less of inaction over the 
whole system. The greatest diversion of the working 
forces is made by our meals : during these the trains of 
thought are changed, while the body is rested. 

Bodily or muscular exercise, when alternated with 
sedentary mental labour, is really a mode of remission 
accompanied with an expenditure requisite to redress 
the balance of the physical functions. The blood has 
unduly flowed to the brain ; muscular exercise draws it 
off. The oxidation of the tissues has been retarded ; 



FAVOURABLE ALTERNATIONS. 45 

muscular exercise is the most direct mode of increasing 
it. But definite observations teach us that these two 
beneficial effects are arrested at the fatigue-point ; so 
that the exercise at last contributes not to the refresh- 
ment, but to the farther exhaustion of the system. 

2. The real matter before us is, what do we gain by 
dropping one form of activity and taking up another .'' 
This involves a variety of considerations. 

It is clear that the first exercise must not have been 
pushed so far as to induce general exhaustion. The raw 
recruit, at the end of his morning drill, is not in a good 
state to improve his arithmetic in the military school- 
room. The musical training for the stage is at times so 
severe as to preclude every other study. The import- 
ance of a particular training may be such that we desire 
for it the whole available plasticity of the system. 

It is only another form of exhaustion when the 
currents of the brain continue in their set channels and 
refuse any proposed diversion. 

There are certain stages in every new and difficult 
study, wherein it might be well to concentrate for a time 
the highest energy of the day. Generally, it is at the 
commencement ; but whatever be the point of special 
difficulty, there might be a remission of all other serious 
or arduous studies, till this is got over. Not that we 
•need actually to lay aside everything else; but there 
are, in most studies, many long tracts where we seem in 
fpoint of form to be moving on, but are really repeating 
..substantially the same familiar efforts. It would be a 
ifelicitous ideal adjustment, if the moments of strain in 
'one of the parallel courses were to coincide with the 
moments of ease in the rest. 
4 



46 ALTERNATION AND REMISSION OF ACTIVITY. 

Hardly any kind of study or exercise is so compli- 
cated and many-sided as to press alike upon all the 
energies of the system ; hence there is an obvious pro- 
priety in making such variations as would leave unused 
as few of our faculties as possible. This principle neces- 
sarily applies to every mental process — acquirement, 
production, enjoyment. The working out of the prin- 
ciple supposes that we are not led away by the mere 
semblance of variety. 

Let us endeavour to assign the differences of subject 
that afford relief by transition. 

There are many kinds of change that are merely 
another name for simple remission of the intellectual 
strain. When a severe and difficult exercise is exchanged 
for an easy one, the agreeable effect is due, not to what 
we engage in, but to what we are relieved from. For 
letting down the strain of the faculties, it is sometimes 
better to take up a light occupation for a time than to 
be totally idle. 

The exchange of study for sport has the twofold 
advantage of muscular exercise and agreeable play. To 
pass from anything that is simply laborious to the 
indulgence of a taste or liking, is the fruition of life. 
To emerge from constraint to liberty, from the dark to 
the light, from monotony to variety, from giving to re- 
ceiving — is the exchanging of pain for pleasure. This, 
which is the substantial reward of labour, is also the 
condition of renovating the powers for further labour 
and endurance. 

To come closer to the difficulty in hand. The kind 
of change that may take place within the field of study 
itself, and that may operate both as a relfef from strain 



OBSERVING AND DOING. 47 

and as the reclamation of waste ground, is best exempli- 
fied in such matters as these : — In the act of learning 
generally there is a twofold attitude — observing what is 
to be done, and doing it. In verbal exercises we first 
listen and then repeat ; in handicraft, we look at the 
model, and then reproduce it. Now, the proportioning 
of the two attitudes is a matter of economical adjust- 
ment. If we are kept too long on the observing stretch, 
we lose the energy for acting ; not to mention that more 
has been given us than we are able to realize. On the 
other hand, we should observe long enough to be quite 
saturated with the impression ; we should have enough 
given us to be worthy of our reproducing energy. Any- 
one working from a model at command learns the suit- 
able proportion between observnng and doing. The living 
teacher may err on either side. He may give too much 
at one dose ; this is the common error. Or he may 
dole out insignificantly small portions, such as do not 
evoke the sense of power in the pupils. 

When an arduous combination is once struck out, 
the worst is over, but the acquisition is not completed. 
There is the farther stage of repetition and practice, to 
give facility and to ensure permanence. This is compara- 
tively easy. It is the occupation of the soldier after his 
first year. There is a plastic process still going on, but 
it is not the same draft upon the forces as the original 
struggles. At this stage, other acquirements are possible 
and should be made. Now, in the course of training, it 
is a relief to pass from the exercises that are entirely 
new and strange to those that have been practised and 
need only to be continued and confirmed. 

Before considering the alternations of departments 



48 ALTERNATION AND REMISSION OF ACTIVITY. 

of acquisition, we may advert to the two different intel- 
lectual energies, called, respectively, Memory and Judg- 
ment. These are in every way distinct, and in passing 
from the one to the other, there is a real, and not merely 
an apparent, transition. Memory is nearly identical with 
the Retentive, Adhesive, or Plastic faculty, which I have 
assumed to be perhaps the most costly employment of 
the powers of the mind and brain. Judgment again 
may be simply an exercise of Discrimination ; it may 
also involve Similarity and Identification ; it may further 
contain a Constructive operation. It is the aspect of 
our intellectual power that turns to account our existing 
impressions, as contrasted with the power that adds to 
our accumulated stores. The most delightful and fruc- 
tifying of all the intellectual energies is the power of 
Similarity and Agreement, by which we rise from the 
individual to the general, trace sameness in diversity, 
and master, instead of being mastered by, the multipli- 
city of Nature. 

IMuch more would be necessary to exhaust the nature 
of the opposition between exercises of Memory and ex- 
ercises of Judgment. Language and Science approxi- 
mately represent the contrast, although language does 
not exclude judgment ; and science demands memory. 
But in the one region, mere adhesion is in the ascendant, 
and, in the other, the detection of similarity in diversity 
is the leading circumstance. There is thus a real trans- 
ition, and change of strain, in passing from the one 
class of studies to the other ; the only qualifying cir- 
cumstance is, that in early years routine adhesion plays 
the greatest part, being, in fact, easier than the other line 
of exertion, for reasons that can be divined. 



ABSTRACT AND CONCRETE. 49 

We can now see what are the departments that con- 
stitute the most effective transitions or diversions where- 
by relief may be gained at one point, and acquirement 
pushed at some other. In the muscular acquirements, 
we have several distinct regions — the body generally, 
the hand in particular, the voice (articulate) and the 
voice (musical). To pass from one of these to the other 
is almost a total change. Then, as to the Sense engaged, 
we may alternate between the eye and the ear, making 
another complete transition. Further, each of the sense- 
organs has distinguishable susceptibilities ; as colour and 
form to the eye, articulation and music to the ear. 

Another effective transition is from books or spoken 
teaching to concrete objects, as set forth in the sciences 
of observation and experiment. The change is nearly 
the same as from an abstract subject, like Mathematics, 
to one of the concrete and experimental sciences, as 
Botany or Chemistry. A still further change is from 
the world of matter to the world of mind ; but this is 
liable to assume false and delusive appearances. 

It has been well remarked that Arithmetic is an 
effective transition from Reading and Writing. The 
whole strain and attitude of the mind is entirely dif- 
ferent, when the pupil sets to perform sums after a read- 
ing lesson. The Mathematical sciences are naturally 
deemed the driest and hardest of occupations to the 
average mind ; yet there may be occupations such as 
to make them an acceptable diversion. I have known 
clergymen whose relaxation from clerical duty consisted 
in algebraical and geometrical problems. 

The Fine Art acquisitions introduce an agreeable 
variety, partly by bringing distinctive organs into play, 



50 ALTERNATION AND REMISSION OF ACTIVITY. 

and partly by evolving a pleasurable interest that enters 
little, if at all, into other studies. The more genial part 
of Moral Training has a relationship to Art ; the severer 
exercises are a painful necessity, and not an agreeable 
transition from anything. 

The introduction of narratives, stirring incidents, and 
topics of human interest generally, is chiefly a mode of 
pleasurable recreation. If taken in any other view, it 
falls under some of the leading studies, and engages the 
Memory, the Judgment, or the Constructive power, and 
must be estimated accordingly. 

Bodily training, Fine Art (itself an aggregate of al- 
ternations), Language, Science, do not exhaust all the 
varieties of acquirement, but they indicate the chief 
departments whose alternation gives relief to the mental 
strain, and economizes power in the whole. Under these, 
as already hinted, there are variations of attitude and 
exercise ; from listening to repeating, from learning a 
rule to the application of it in new cases, from knowledge 
generally to practice. 

The transition from one language to another, being 
a variation in the nature of the impressions, is a relief of 
an inferior kind, yet real. It is the more so, if we are 
not engaged in parallel exercises ; learning strings of 
Latin words in the morning, and of German in the even- 
ing, does not constitute any relief 

From one science to another the transition may be 
great, as already shown, or it may be small. From Bo- 
tany to Zoology affords a transition of material, with 
similarity in form. Pure and Mixed Mathematics are 
the very same thing. The change from Algebra to 
Geometry is but slightly refreshing ; from Geometry to 



MIXED SUBJECTS. 5 1 

Trigonometry and Geometrical Conic Sections, is no 
relief to any faculty. 

There are minor incidents of relief and alternation 
that are not to be despised. Passing from one master 
to another (both being supposed competent) is a very 
sensible and grateful change ; even the change of room, 
of seat, of posture, is an antidote against weariness, and 
helps us in making a fresh start. The jaded student 
relishes a change of books in the same subject.^ 

Some subjects are in themselves so mixed that they 
would appear to contain the elements of a sufficiently 
varied occupation of the mind ; such are Geography, 
History, and what is called Literature, when studied 
both for expression and for subject-matter. This variety, 
however, is not altogether a desirable thing. The ana- 
lytic branch of the Science of Education would have to 
resolve those aggregates into their constituent parts, and 
to consider not only their respective contributions to our 
mental culture, but also the advantages and disadvan- 
tages attending the mixture. 

CULTURE OF THE EMOTIONS. 

The laws attainable in the departments of Emotion 
and Volition are the immediate prelude to Moral Edu- 
cation, in which all the highest difficulties culminate. 
There are emotional and volitional forces prior to any 
cultivation, and there are new forces that arise through 
cultivation ; yet from the vagueness attaching to the 

' In the German Gymnasia, where the routine is very strict, and the 
exactions enormous, the pupils are allowed a day in the week to their own 
choice of studies. 



52 CULTURE OF THE EMOTIONS. 

measured intensity of feelings and emotions, it is not 
easy to value the separate results. 

The general. laws of Retentiveness equally apply to 
emotional growths. There must be Repetition and Con- 
centration of mind to bring about a mental association 
of pleasure or of pain with any object. But there are 
peculiarities in the case such as to demand for it a sup- 
plementary treatment. Perhaps the best way of bringing 
out the points is to indicate the modes or species of 
growths, coming under Emotion and Volition, that most 
obtrude themselves upon the notice of the educationist. 

I. We may quote first the Associations of Pleasure 
and Pain with the various things that have been present 
to us during our experiences of delight and suffering. 
It is well known that we contract pleasurable regards 
towards things originally indifferent that have been often 
present to us in happy moments. Local associations 
are among the most familiar examples ; if our life is 
joyous, we go on increasing our attachments to our per- 
manent home and neighbourhood ; we are severely tried 
when we have to migrate ; and one of our holiday de- 
lights is to revisit the scenes of former pleasures. A 
second class of acquired feelings includes the associa- 
tions with such objects as have been the instruments of 
our avocations, tastes, and pursuits. The furnishings of 
our home, our tools, weapons, curiosities, collections, 
books, pictures — all contract a glow of associated feel- 
ing, that helps to palliate the dulness of life. The essence 
of affection, as distinguished from emotion, is understood 
to be the confirming and strengthening of some primary 
object of our regards. As our knowledge extends, we 
contract numerous associations with things purely ideal, 



HAPPY ASSOCIATIONS. 53 

as with historic places, persons, incidents. I need 
only allude to the large field of ceremonies, rites, and 
formalities that are cherished as enlarging the surface 
of emotional growths. The Fine Art problem of distin- 
guishing between original and derived effects consists in 
more precisely estimating these acquired pleasures. 

The educationist could not but cast a longing eye 
over the wide region here opened up, as a grand oppor- 
tunity for his art. It is the realm of vague possibility, 
peculiarly suited to sanguine estimates. An education 
in happiness pure and simple, by well-placed joyous asso- 
ciations, is a dazzling prospect. One of Sydney Smith's 
pithy sayings was - ' If you make children happy now, 
you make them happy twenty years hence, by the me- 
mory of it.' This referred no doubt to the home life. It 
may, however, be carried out also in the school life ; and 
enthusiasm has gone the length of supposing that the 
school may be so well constituted as to efface the stamp 
of an unhappy home. 

The growth of such happy associations is not the 
work of days ; it demands years. I have endeavoured 
to set forth the psychology of the case,' and do not here 
repeat the principles and conditions that seem to be in- 
volved. But the thread of the present exposition would 
be snapt, if I were not to ask attention to the difference 
in the rate of growth when the feelings are painful ; in 
which case, the progress is not so tedious, nor is it so 
liable to thwarting and interruption. 

With understood exceptions, pleasure is related phy- 
sically with vitality, health, vigour, harmonious adjust- 
ment of all the parts of the system ; it needs sufficiency 

' The Emotions and the Will, 3id edit., p. 89. 



54 CULTURE OF THE EMOTIONS. 

of nutriment or support, excitement within due limits, 
the absence of everything that could mar or irritate any 
organ. Pain comes of the deficiency in any of these 
conditions, and is, therefore, as easy to bring about and 
maintain as the other is difficult. To evoke an echo or 
recollection of pleasure, is to secure, or at least to simu- 
late, the copiousness, the due adjustment and harmony, 
of the powers. This may be easy enough when such is 
the actual state at the time, but that is no test. What 
we need is to induce a pleasurable tone, when the actu- 
ality is no more than indifferent or neutral, and even, in 
the midst of actual pain, to restore pleasure by force of 
mental adhesiveness. A growth of this description is, 
on a priori grounds, not likely to be soon reached. 

On the other hand, pain is easy in the actual, and 
easy in the ideal. It is easy to burn one's fingers, and 
easy to associate pain with a flame, a cinder, a hot iron. 
Going as spectators to visit a fine mansion, we feel in 
some degree elated by the associations of enjoyment ; 
but we are apt to be in a still greater degree depressed 
by entering the abodes of wretchedness, or visiting the 
gloomy chambers of a prison. 

2. The facility of painful growths is not fully com- 
prehended, until we advert to the case of Passionate 
Outbursts, or the modes of feeling whose characteristic 
is Explosiveness. These costly discharges of vital energy 
are easy to induce at first hand, and easy to attach to 
indifferent things, so as to be induced at second hand 
likewise. Very rarely are they desirable in themselves ; 
our study is to check and control them in their original 
operation, and to hinder the rise of new occasions for 
their display. One of the best examples is Terror ; an 



PAINFUL ASSOCIATIONS. 55 

explosive and wasteful manifestation of energy under 
certain forms of pain. If it is frequently stimulated by 
its proper causes, it attaches itself to bystanding circum- 
stances with fatal readiness, and proceeds with no tardy 
steps. Next is Irascibility ; also an explosive emotion. 
It too, if ready to burst out by its primary causes, soon 
enlarges its borders by new associations. It is in every 
way more dangerous than terror. The state of fear is 
so miserable that we would restrain it if we could. The 
state of anger, although containing painful elements, is 
in its nature a luxurious mood ; and we may not wish 
either to check it in the first instance, or to prevent 
its spreading over collateral things. When anyone 
has stirrred our irascibility to its depths, the feeling 
overflows upon all that relates to him. If this be plea- 
sure, it is a pleasure of rapid growth ; even in tender 
years we may be advanced in hatreds. That combina- 
tion of terror and irascibility giving rise to what is named 
Antipathy is (unless strongly resisted) a state easy to 
assume and easy to cultivate, and is in wide contrast 
with the slow growth of the pleasures typified under the 
foregoing head. A signal illustration of explosiveness 
is furnished by Laughter, which has both its original 
causes, and its factitious or borrowed stimulants. This 
is an instance where the severity of the agitation pro- 
vokes self-control, and where advancing years contract 
rather than enlarge the sphere. As the expression 
of disparaging and scornful emotions, its cultivation has 
the facility of the generic passion of malevolence. We 
may refer, next, to the explosive emotion of Grief, which 
is in itself seductive, and, if uncontrolled, adds to its 
primary urgency the force of a habit all too readily 



56- CULTURE OF THE EMOTIONS. 

acquired. There is, moreover, in connection with the 
Tender Emotion, an explosive mode of genuine affec- 
tion, of which the only defect is its being too strong to 
last ; it prompts to a degree of momentary ardour that 
is compatible with a relapse into coldness and neglect. 
This, too, will spontaneously extend itself, and will ex- 
emplify the growth of emotional association with unde- 
sirable rapidity. 

What has now been said is but a summary and re- 
presentation of familiar emotional facts. Familiar also 
is the remark that explosiveness is the weakness of early- 
life, and is surmounted to a great degree by the lapse of 
time and the strengthening of the energies. The en- 
counter with others in every-day life begets restraint 
and control ; and one's own prudential reflections stimu- 
late a further repression of the original outbursts, by 
which also their groAvth into habits is retarded. In so 
far as they are repressed by influence from without, 
and counter-habits established, as a part of moral edu- 
cation, I have elsewhere stated what I consider the 
two main conditions of such a result — a powerful initia- 
tive, and an unbroken series of conquests. When 
these conditions are exemplified through all the emo- 
tions in detail, the specialities of the different genera 
— Fear, Anger, Love, and the rest — are sufficiently 
obvious. 

3. The chief interest always centres in those asso- 
ciations that, from their bearing on conduct as right and 
wrong, receive the name * Moral.' The class just de- 
scribed have this bearing in a very direct form ; while 
the bearing of the first class is only indirect. But when 
we approach the subject with an express view to moral 



MORAL ASSOCIATIONS. 57 

culture, we must cross the field of emotional association 
in general by a new track. 

Moral improvement is obviously a strengthening of 
this so-called Moral Faculty, or Conscience — increasing 
its might (in Butler's phrase) to the level of its right. 
But in order to strengthen an energy we must know 
what it is : if it is a simple, we must define it in its sim- 
plicity ; if it is a compound, we must assign its elements 
with a view to defining them. The unconventional hand- 
ling of moral culture by Bentham and by James Mill is 
strongly illustrative of this part of the case. Mill's view 
of the Moral Sense is the theory of thorough-going deri-. 
vation ; and, in delineating the process of Moral Educa- 
tion, he naturally follows out that vicvv. He takes the 
cardinal virtues piecemeal ; for example: — 'Temperance 
bears a reference to pain and pleasure. The object is, 
to connect with each pain and pleasure those trains of 
ideas which, according to the order established among 
events, tend most effectually to increase the sum ot 
pleasures upon the whole, and diminish that of pains.' 
The advocates of a Moral Faculty would have a different 
way of inculcating Temperance, which, however, I will 
not undertake to reproduce. 

It will not be denied, as a matter of fact, that the 
perennial mode of ensuring the moral conduct of man- 
kind has been punishment and reward — pain and plea- 
sure. This method has been found, generally speaking, 
to answer the purpose ; it has reached the springs of action 
of human beings of every hue. No special mental en- 
dowment has been needed to make man dread the pains 
of the civil authority. Constituted as we are to flee all 
sorts of pain, we are necessarily urged to avoid pain 



58 CULTURE OF THE EMOTIONS. 

when it conies as punishment. Education is not essen- 
tial to this effect, any more than it is essential to our 
avoiding the pains of hunger, cold, or fatigue. 

Those that demur to the existence of a special faculty, 
different from all the other recognized constituents of 
mind — Feeling, Will, or Intellect — are not to be held 
as declaring that Conscience is entirely a matter of edu- 
cation ; for, without any education at all, man may be, to 
all intents and purposes, moral. What is meant by the 
derivative theory of Conscience is, that everything that 
it includes is traceable to some one or other of the lead- 
ing facts of our nature ; first of all to Will or Volition, 
motived by pain and pleasure, and next to the Social 
and Sympathetic impulses. The co-operation of these 
factors supplies an impetus to right conduct that is nearly 
all-powerful, wherever there is the external machinery of 
law and authority. Education, as a third factor, plays a 
part, no doubt, but we may over-rate as well as under- 
rate its influence. I should not be far out in saying 
that seventy-five per cent, of the average moral faculty 
is the rough and ready response of the Will to the con- 
stituted penalties and rewards of society. 

At the risk of embroiling the theory of Education in 
a controversy that would seem to be alien to it, I con- 
ceive it to be necessary to make these broad statements 
as a prelude to inquiring what are the emotional and 
volitional associations that constitute the made-up or 
acquired portion of our moral nature. That education is 
a considerable factor is shown by the difference between 
the children that are neglected and those that are care- 
fully tended ; a difference, however, that means a good 
deal more than education. 



DISINTERESTED REPUGNANCE TO WRONG. 59 

When the terrors of the law are once thoroughly un- 
derstood, it does not seem as if any education could add 
to the mind's own original repugnance to incur them ; 
and, on the other hand, when something in the nature of 
reward is held forth to encourage certain kinds of con- 
duct, we do not need special instruction to prompt us to 
secure it. There is, indeed, one obvious weakness that 
often nullifies the operation of these motives, namely, the 
giving way to some present and pressing solicitation ; a 
weakness that education might do something for, but 
rarely does. The instructor that could reform a victim 
to this frailty, would effect something much wider than 
is properly included in moral improvement. 

Going in search of some distinct lines of emotional 
association that enhance the original impulses coincident 
with moral duty, I think I may cite the growth of an 
immediate, independent, and disinterested repugnance 
to what is uniformly denounced and punished as being 
wrong. This is a state or disposition of mind forming 
part of a well-developed conscience ; it may grow up 
spontaneously under the experience of social authority, 
and it may be aided by inculcation ; it may, however, 
also fail to show itself It is the parallel of the much- 
quoted love of money for itself; but is not so facile in 
its growth. For one thing, the mind must not treat 
authority as an enemy to be counted with, and to be 
obeyed only when we cannot do better. There must 
be a cordial acquiescence in the social system as 
working by penalties ; and this needs the concurrence 
of good impulses with reflection on the evils that man- 
kind are rescued from. It is by being favourably situ- 
ated in the world, as well as by being sympathetically 



6o PLAY OF MOTIVES: — THE SENSES. 

disposed, that we contract this repugnance to immoral 
acts in themselves, without reference to the penalties 
that are behind ; and thus perform our duties when out 
of sight, not in the narrowness of the letter, but in the 
fulness of the spirit. It would take some considera- 
tion to show how the schoolmaster might co-operate in 
furthering this special growth. 

In Education there has to be encountered at every 
turn the play of Motives. Now, the theory of Motives 
is the theory of Sensation, Emotion and Will ; in other 
words, it is the psychology of the Sensitive and the 
Active Powers. 

PLAY OF MOTIVES: -THE SENSES. 

The pleasures, the pains and the privations of the 
Senses are the earliest and the most unfailing, if not also 
the strongest, of motives. Besides their bearings on 
self-preservation, they are a principal standing dish in 
life's feast. 

It is when the Senses are looked at on the side of 
feeling, or as pleasure and pain, that the defectiveness of 
the current classification into five is most evident. For, 
although, in the point of view of knowledge or intellect, 
the five senses are the really important approaches to 
the mind, yet, in the view of feeling or pleasure and pain, 
the omission of the varied organic susceptibility leaves 
a wide gap in the handling of the subject. Some of 
our very strongest pleasures and pains grow out of 
the region of organic life — Digestion, Circulation, Re- 
spiration, Muscular and Nervous integrity or derange- 
ment. 



MUSCLES. — NERVES. 6v 

In exerting influence over human beings this depart- 
ment of sensibiUty is a first resource. It can be counted 
on with more certainty than perhaps any other. Indeed, 
almost all the punishments of a purely physical kind fall 
within the domain of the organic sensations. What is 
it that makes punishment formidable but its threatening 
the very vitals of the system ? It is the lower degree of 
what, in a higher degree, takes away life. 

For example, the Muscular System is the seat of a 
mass of sensibility, pleasurable and painful : the plea- 
sures of healthy exercise, the pains of privation of exer- 
cise, and the pains of extreme fatigue. In early life, 
when all the muscles, as well as the senses, are fresh, 
the muscular organs are very largely connected both 
with enjoyment and with suffering. To accord full scope 
to the activity of the fresh organs is a gratification that 
may take the form of a rich reward ; to refuse this scope 
is the infliction of misery ; to compel exercise beyond 
the limits of the powers is still greater misery. Our 
penal discipline adopts the two forms of pain : in the 
milder treatment of the young, the irksomeness of re- 
straint ; in the severer methods with the full-grown, the 
torture of fatigue. 

Again, the Nervous System is subject to organic de- 
pression ; and certain of our pains are due to this cause. 
The well-known state denominated * Tedium ' is nervous 
uneasiness ; and is caused by undue exercise of any 
portion of the nervous system. In its extreme forms, it 
is intolerable wretchedness. It is the suffering caused 
by penal impositions or tasks, by confinement, and by 
monotony of all kinds. The acute sufferings of the 
nervous system, as growing out of natural causes, are 



62 PLAY OF MOTIVES : - THE SENSES. 

represented by neuralgic pains. It is in graduated 
artificial inflictions, operating directly on the nerves by 
means of electricity, that we may look for the physical 
punishments of the future, that are to displace floggings 
and muscular torture. 

The interests of Nourishment, as against privation 
of food, are necessarily bound up with a large volume 
of enjoyment and sufl"ering. Starvation, deficiency and 
inferiority of food, are connected with depression and 
misery of the severest kind, inspiring the dread that most 
effectually stimulates human beings to work, to beg, or 
to steal. The obverse condition of a rich and abundant 
diet is in itself an almost sufficient basis of enjoyment. 
The play of motives between those extremes enables us 
to put forth an extensive sway over human conduct. 

An instructive distinction may be made between 
Privation and Hunger ; likewise between their opposites. 
Privation is the positive deficiency of nourishing material 
in the blood ; Hunger is the craving of the stomach at 
its usual times of being supplied, and is a local sensi- 
bility, perhaps very acute, but not marked by the pro- 
found wretchedness of inanition. There may be plenty 
of material to go on with, although we are suffering from 
stomachic hunger. Punishing, for once, by the loss of a 
meal out of the three or four in the day is unimportant 
as regards the general vigour, yet very telling as a 
motive. Absolutely to diminish the available nutriment 
of the system is a measure of great severity ; to inflict a 
passing hunger is not the same thing. 

When we unite the acute pleasures of the palate with 
stomachic relish and the exhilaration of abundance of 
food-material in a healthy frame, we count up a large 



ORGANIC SENSIBILITIES. 63 

mass of pleasurable sensibility. Between the lowest de- 
mands of subsistence and the highest luxuries of affluent 
means there is a great range, available as an instru- 
mentality of control in the discipline of the young. The 
usual regimen being something considerably above neces- 
saries, and yet beneath the highest pitch of indulgence, 
room is given to operate both by reduction and by in- 
crease of luxur)^, without either mischief or pampering ; 
and as the sensibility in early years is very keen under 
those heads, the motive power is great. Having in 
view the necessities of discipline with the young, the 
habitual regimen in food should not be pitched cither too 
low or too high to permit of such variations. It is the 
misfortune of poverty that this means of influence is 
greatly wanting ; the next lower depth to the delinquent 
child is the application of the rod. 

These are the chief departments of Organic Sensi- 
bility that contain the motives made use of in reward 
and punishment. The inflictions of caning and flogging 
operate upon the organ of the sense of touch, yet, in 
reality, the effect is one to be classed among the pains 
of organic life, rather than among tactile sensations ; it 
is a pain resulting from injury or violence to the tissue 
in the first instance, and, if carried far, is destructive of 
life. Like all physical acute pains, it is a powerful de- 
terring influence, and is doubtless the favourite punish- 
ment of every age and every race of mankind. The 
limitations to its use demand a rigorous handling ; but 
the consideration of these is mixed up with motives 
afterwards to be adverted to. 

The ordinary five Senses contain, in addition to their 
intellectual functions, many considerable sensibilities to 



64 PLAY OF MOTIVES :^THE EMOTIONS. 

pleasure and pain. The pleasures can be largely made 
use of as incentives to conduct. The pains might, of 
course, be also employed in the same way ; but, with the 
exceptions already indicated, they very rarely are. We 
do not punish by bad odours, nor by bitter tastes. 
Harsh and grating sounds may be very torturing, birt 
they are not used in discipline. The pains of sight reach 
the highest acuteness, but as punishment they are found 
only in the most barbarous codes. 

Postponing a review of the principles of punishment 
generally, we approach the most perplexing department 
of motives — the higher Emotions. Few of the simple 
sensational effects are obtained in purity, that is, without 
the intermingling of emotions. 

PLAY OF MOTIVES: — THE EMOTIONS. 

One large department of Psychology is made up of 
the classification, definition, and analysis of the Emotions. 
The applications of a complete theory of Emotion are 
numerous, and the systematic expansion must be such 
as to cope with all these applications. We here narrow 
the subject to what is indispensable for the play of 
motives in Education. 

First of all, it is necessary to take note of the large 
region of Sociability, comprising the Social Emotions 
and Affections. Next is the department of anti-social 
feeling — Anger, Malevolence, and Lust of Domination. 
Taking both the sources and the ramifications of these 
two leading groups, we cover perhaps three-fourths of all 
the sensibility that rises above the Senses proper. They 
do not, indeed, exhaust the fountains of emotion, but they 



REVIEW OF THE EMOTIONS. 65 

leave no others that can rank as of first-class importance, 
except through derivation from them and the senses 
together. 

The region of Fine Art comprises a large compass of 
pleasurable feeling, with corresponding susceptibilities to 
pain. Some of this is sensation proper, being the plea- 
sures of the two higher senses ; some of it is due to asso- 
ciations with the interests of all the senses (Beauty of 
Utility) ; a certain portion may be called intellectual — 
the perception of unity in variety ; whilst the still largest 
share appears to be derived from the two great sources 
above described. 

The Intellect generally is a source of various gratifi- 
cations and also of sufferings that are necessarily mixed 
up with our intellectual education. Both the delights of 
attained knowledge and the pains of intellectual labour 
have to be carefully counted with by every instructor. 

The pleasures of Action or Activity are a class greatly 
pressed into the educational service, and, therefore, de- 
mand special consideration. 

The names Self-esteem, Pride, Vanity, Love of 
Praise, express powerful sentiments, whose analysis is 
attended with much subtlety. They are largely ap- 
pealed to by everyone that has to exercise control over 
human beings. To gratify them, is to impart copious 
pleasure ; to thwart or wound them, is to inflict corre- 
sponding pain. 

Mention has not yet been made of one genus of 
emotion, formidable as a source of pain and as a motive 
to activity, namely, Fear or Terror. Only in the shape 
of reaction or relief, is it a source of pleasure. The skilful 
management of this sensibility has much to do with the 



66 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — TERROR. 

efficient control of all sentient creatures, and still more 
with the saving of gratuitous misery. 

Our rapid review of these various sources of emotion, 
together with others of a minor kind, proposes to deal 
once for all, and in the best manner, with the various 
educational questions that turn upon the operation of 
motives. We shall have to remark upon prevailing ex- 
aggerations on some heads, and upon the insufficient 
stress laid on others ; and we shall endeavour to unfold 
in just proportions the entire compass of our emotional 
susceptibilities available for the purposes of the teacher. 

T/ie Emotion of Terror. 

The state of mind named Terror or Fear is described 
briefly as a state of extreme misery and depression, 
prostrating the activity and causing exaggeration of 
ideas in whatever is related to it. It is an addition to 
pain pure and simple — the pain of a present infliction. 
It is roused by the foretaste or prospect of evil, especially 
if that is great in amount, and still more if it is of un- 
certain nature. 

As far as Education is concerned, terror is an incident 
of the infliction of punishment. We may work by the 
motive of evil without producing the state of terror, as 
when the evil is slight and well-defined ; a small under- 
stood privation, a moderate dose of irksomeness, may be 
salutary and preventive, without any admixture of the 
quakings and misery of fear. A severe infliction in 
prospect will induce fear ; the more so that the subject 
does not know how severe it is to be. 

In the higher moral Education, the management of 



F.VILS OF TERROR AS A MOTIVE. 6"^ 

Fear is of the utmost consequence. So great are the 
evils attendant on the use of it, that it should be reserved 
for the last resort. Fear wastes the energy and scatters 
the thoughts, and thus is ruinous to the interests of 
mental progress. Its one certain result is to paralyze 
and arrest action, or else to concentrate force in some 
single point, at the cost of general debility. The tyrant, 
working by terror, disarms rebelliousness, but fails to 
procure energetic service. 

The worst of all modes and instruments of discipline 
is the employment of spiritual, ghostly, or superstitious 
terrors. Unless it were to scourge and thwart the 
greatest of criminals -the disturbers of the peace of 
mankind — hardly anything justifies the terrors of super- 
stition. On a small scale, we know what it is to frighten 
children with ghosts ; on a larger scale, we have the in- 
fluence of religions dealing almost exclusively in the 
fear of another life. 

Like the other gross passions, Terror admits of being 
refined upon and toned down, till it becomes simply a 
gentle stimulation ; and the reaction more than compen- 
sates for the misery. The greatest efforts in this direction 
are found in the artistic handling of fear, as in the 
sympathetic fears of tragedy, and in the passing terrors 
of a well-constructed plot. In the moral bearings of the 
emotions, its refined modes are shown in the fear of 
giving pain or offence to one that we love, respect, or 
venerate. There may be a considerable degree of the 
depressing element even in this situation ; yet the effect 
is altogether wholesome and ennobling. All superiors 
should aspire to be feared in this manner. 

Timiditv, or su.sceptibility to fear, is one of the noted 



68 PLAY OF MOTIVES :— SOCIAL EMOTIONS. 

differences of character ; and this difference is to be 
taken into account in discipline. The absence of gene- 
ral vigour, bodily and mental, is marked by timidity ; 
and the state may also be the result of long bad usage, 
and of perverted views of the world. In the way of 
culture, or of high exertion in any form, little is to be 
expected from thoroughly timid natures ; they can be 
easily governed, so far as concerns sins of commission, 
but their omissions are not equally remediable. 

The conquest of superstitious fears is one of the 
grandest objects of education taken in its widest com- 
pass. It cannot be accomplished by any direct incul- 
cation ; it is one of the incidental and most beneficial 
results of the exact study of nature, in other words, 
science. 

The Social Motives. 

This is perhaps the most extensive and the least 
involved of all the emotional influences at work in 
Education. 

The pleasures of Love, Affection, Mutual Regard, 
Sympathy, or Sociability, make up the foremost satis- 
faction of human life ; and, as such, are a standing object 
of desire, pursuit, and fruition. Sociability is a wholly 
distinct fact from the prime supports of existence and 
from the pleasures of the five senses, and is not, in my 
opinion, resolvable into those, however deeply we may 
analyze it, or however far back we may trace the histori- 
cal evolution of the mind. Nevertheless, as the supports 
of life and the pure sense agreeables and exemptions, 
come to us in great part through the medium of fellow- 
beings, the value of the social regards receives from this 



THE INTENSE EMOTIONS. 69 

cause an enormous augmentation, and, in the total, 
counts for one paramount object of human soHcitude. 
It would appear strange if this motive could ever be 
overlooked by the educator, or by anyone ; yet there 
are theories and methods that treat it as of inferior 
account. 

The vast aggregate of social feeling is made up of 
the intenser elements of sexual and parental love, and 
the select attachments in the way of friendship, together 
with the more diffused sentiments towards the masses of 
human beings. The motive power of the feelings in 
education may be well exemplified in the intense exam- 
ples ; we can see in these both the merits and the defects 
of the social stimulus. The PJicEdnis of Plato is a re- 
markable ideal picture of philosophy prompted by Eros, 
in the Grecian form of attachment. The ordinary love of 
the sexes, in our time, does not furnish many instances 
of the mutual striving after high culture ; it may be left 
out of account in the theory of early education. We 
frequently find mothers applying to studies that they 
feel no personal attraction for, in order to assist in the 
progress of their children. This is much better than 
nothing ; a secondary end may be the initiation and 
discovery of a taste that at last is self-subsisting. 

The intense emotions, from the very fact of their 
intensity, are unsuited to the promptings of severe cul- 
ture. The hardest studious work, the laying of foun- 
dations, should be over before the flame of sexual and 
parental passion is kindled ; when this is at its height the 
intellectual power is in abeyance, or else it is diverted 
from its regular course. The mutual influence of two 
lovers is not educative, for want of the proper conditions. 



70 PLAY OF MOTIVES : — SOCIAL EMOTIONS. 

No doubt considerable efforts are inspired ; but there is 
seldom sufficient elevation of view on the one side, or 
sufficient adaptability on the other, to make the mutual 
influence what Plato and the romancists conceive as 
possible. By very different and inferior compliances 
on both sides, the feeling may be kept alive ; if more 
is wanted, it dies away. 

The favourable conjunction for study and mental 
culture in general is friendship between two, or a small 
number, each naturally smitten with the love of know- 
ledge for its own sake, and basing their attachment on 
that circumstance. A certain amount of mutual liking 
in other respects perfects the relationship ; but the over- 
powering sensuous regards of the Platonic couple do not 
furnish the requisite soil for high culture. As a matter 
of fact, those attachments, as they existed in Greece, 
prompted to signal instances of self-devotion in the form 
of surrendering worldly goods and life itself; and this is 
the highest fruit that they have yielded in later times. 

The remaining aspect of sociability — the influence of 
the general multitude — holds out the most powerful and 
permanent motive to conduct, and is largely felt in edu- 
cation. In the presence of an assembly the individual 
is roused, agitated, swayed ; the thrill of numbers is 
electric ; in whatever direction the influence tends, it is 
almost irresistible. Any effort made in the sight of a 
host is, by that circumstance, totally altered in charac- 
ter ; and all impressions are very much deepened. 

Having in view this ascendancy of numbers, we can 
make a step towards computing the efficacy of class 
teaching, public schools, and institutions where great 
multitudes are brought together. The power exercised 



TENDENCY TO A UNIFORM LEVEL. /I 

is of a mixed character ; and the several elements admit 
of being singled out. The social motive, in its pure 
form of gregarious attraction and mutual sympathy, 
does not stand alone. Supposing it did, the effect would 
be to supply a strong stimulus in favour of everything 
that was supported by common consent ; the individual 
would be urged to attain the level of the mass. The 
drill of a regiment of soldiers corresponds very nearly 
to this situation ; every man is under the eye of the 
whole, and aspires to be what the rest are, and not 
much, if anything, beyond : the sympathetic co-opera- 
tion of the mass guides, stimulates, and rewards the 
exertion of the individual. Even if it were the distina- 
tion of a soldier to act as an isolated individual, still 
his education would be most efficaciously conducted on 
the mass system ; being finished off by a certain amount 
of separate exercise to prepare for the detached or inde- 
pendent position. 

In all cases of teaching numbers together, the social 
feeling, in the pure form now assumed, is frequently 
operative ; and the results are as stated. The tendency 
is to secure a certain approved level of attainment ; those 
that are disinclined of themselves to work up to that 
level are pushed on by the influence of the mass. If 
there were no other strong passions called out in society, 
the general result would be a kind of Communism or 
Socialism characterized by mediocrity and dead level ; 
everything correct up to a certain point, but no indivi- 
dual superiority or distinction. 

The influence of society as the dispenser of collective 
good and evil things, in addition to its operation in the 
affections and the sympathies, is necessarily all-powerful in 



72 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — MALIGN EMOTIONS. 

every direction. If this stimulus were always to coincide 
with high mental culture, the effect would be something 
that the imagination hardly dares to shadow forth. It 
is, however, a power that may be propitiated by many 
different means, including shams and evasions ; and the 
bearing upon culture is only occasional. Nevertheless, 
the social rewards have often served to foster the highest 
genius — the oratory of Demosthenes, and the poetry of 
Horace and of Virgil — that form of genius that is noto- 
riously allied with toil and perseverance of the most 
arduous kind. The same influence, working by disap- 
probation and approbation combined, is, as I contend, 
the principal generating source of the ordinary moral 
sentiments of mankind, and the inspiration of excep- 
tional virtues. 



The Anti- Social and Malign Emotions. 

The emotions of Anger, Hatred, Antipathy, Rivalry, 
Contumely, have reference to other beings, no less than 
Love or Affection ; but in an opposite way. In spite of 
the painful incidents in their manifestation — the offence in 
the first instance, and next the dangers of reprisal — they 
are a source of immediate pleasure, often not inferior, 
and sometimes superior, in amount to the pleasures of 
amity and gregarious co-operation. In numerous in- 
stances people are willing to forego social and sympa- 
thetic delights to indulge in the pleasures of malignity. 

In the work of discipline the present class of emotions 
occasion much solicitude. They can in certain ways 
be turned to good account, but for the most part the 



CHECKS TO ANGER. 73 

business of the educator and the moralist is to counter- 
work them, as being fraught with unalloyed evil. 

Being a fitful or explosive passion, Anger should, as 
far as possible, be checked or controlled in the young ; 
but there are no adequate means of doing so short of 
the very highest influence of the parent or the teacher. 
The restraint induced by the presence of a dread supe- 
rior at the time does not sink deep enough to make a 
habit ; opportunities are sought and found to vent the 
passion with safety. The cultivation of the sympathies 
and the affections is what alone copes with angry 
passion, whether we take it as a disturber of equa- 
nimity, or as the prompter of wrong. The obverse of ill- 
temper is the disposition that thinks less of harm done 
to self, and more of harm done to other people ; and 
if we can do anything to foster this disposition, we 
thereby reduce the sphere of malignant passion. The 
collateral incentives to suppress angry passion in- 
clude, besides the universal remedy of disapprobation, 
an appeal to the sense of personal dignity and to the 
baneful consequences of passionate outbursts. 

The worst form of malignant feeling is cold and 
deliberate delight in cruelty ; all too frequent, especially 
in the young. The torturing of animals, of weak and 
defenceless human beings, is the spontaneous outflow of 
the perennial fountain of malevolence. This has to be 
checked, if need be, at the expense of considerable 
severity. The inflictions practised on those that are 
able to recriminate generally find their own remedy ; and 
the discipline of consequences is as effectual as any. By 
having to fight our equals, we are taught to regulate our 
wrathful and cruel propensities. 



74 PLAY OF MOTIVES:— MALIGN EMOTIONS. 

The intense pleasure of victory contains the sweet- 
ness of malevolence, heightened by some other ingre- 
dients. The prostration and destruction of an enemy or 
a rival is, no doubt, the primary situation where male- 
volent impulses had their rise ; and it continues to be 
perhaps the very strongest stimulant of the human 
energies. Notwithstanding its several drawbacks, we 
are obliged to give it a place among motives to study 
and mental advancement. In the fight and struggle of 
party contests, the pleasure of victory enters in full 
flavour ; and in the competitions at school, the same 
motive is at work. The social problem of restraining 
individuals in their selfish grasping at good things — the 
mere agreeables and exemptions of the senses — is ren- 
dered still more intractable by the craving for the smack 
of malevolent gratification. Total repression has been 
found impossible ; snd ingenuity has devised a number 
of outlets that are more or less compatible with the 
sacredness of mutual rights. 

One chief outlet for the malevolent impulses is the 
avenging of wrong, whether private or public. A con- 
victed wrongdoer is punished by the law, and the indig- 
nation roused by the crime turns to gratification at the 
punishment. In the theory of penal retribution some 
allowance is claim.ed for the vindictive satisfaction of 
the public. To think only of the prevention of crime 
and the reformation of criminals, suppressing all re- 
sentful feeling, is a thing too severe and ascetic for 
human nature as at present constituted. The privacy 
of the punishments of criminals, in our modern system, 
is intended to keep the indulgence within bounds. 

A wide ideal scope is given to our resentful pleasures 



PLAYFULNESS AND HUMOUR. 75 

in history and in romance ; we are gratified by the re- 
tribution inflicted upon the authors of wrong. Narra- 
tives of evildoers and of their punishment are level to 
the meanest capacity ; this is the sort of history that 
suits even the imagination of children. 

The highest refinement of the malevolent gratifica- 
tion I take to be the emotion called the Ludicrous and 
the Comic. There is a laugh of vindictiveness, hatred, 
and derision, that carries the sentiment as far as it can 
be carried without blows. But there is also the laugh 
expressed by Playfulness and Humour, in which the 
malignant feeling seems almost on the point of disap- 
pearing in favour of the amicable sentiment. It is of 
some importance to understand that in play, fun, and 
humour there is a delicate counterpoise of opposing 
sentiments, an attempt to make the most of both worlds 
— Love and Anger. The great masterpieces of humour 
in literature, the amenities of everyday society, the in- 
nocent joyousness of laughter — all attest the success of 
the hazardous combination. Nothing could better show 
the intensity of the primitive charm of malevolence 
than the unction that survives after it is attenuated to 
the condition of innocent mirthfulness. When the real 
exercise of the destructive propensity is not to be had, 
creatures endowed with emotions still relish the fictitious 
forms. This is seen remarkably in the amicable * play ' 
of puppies and kittens. Not being endowed with much 
compass of the caressing acts, they show their love by 
snarling and sham biting ; in which, through their for- 
tunate self-restraint, they seem to enjoy a double pleasure. 
In the play of children there is the same employment 
of the forms of destructive malevolence, and, so long as 



^6 PLAY OF MOTIVES : — MALIGN EMOTIONS. 

it is happily balanced, the effect is highly piquant. By 
submitting in turn to be victimized, a party of children 
can secure, at a moderate cost to each, the zest of the 
malevolent feeling ; and this I take to be the quintes- 
sence of play. 

The use of this close analysis is to fix attention upon 
the precarious tenure of all these enjoyments, and to 
render a precise reason for the well-known fact that play 
or fun is always on the eve of becoming earnest ; in other 
words, the destructive or malevolent element is in con- 
stant danger of breaking loose from its checks, and of 
passing from fictitious to actual inflictions. The play of 
the canine and the feline kind often degenerates in this 
fashion ; and in childish and youthful amusements it is 
a perpetual rock ahead. 

It is no less dangerous to indulge people in too much 
ideal gratification of the vindictive sentiments. Tales 
of revenge against enemies are too apt to cultivate the 
malevolent propensity. Children, it is true, take up this 
theme with wonderful alacrity ; nevertheless, it is a species 
of pampering supplied to the worst emotions instead of 
the best. 

One other bearing of Irascibility on Education needs 
to be touched upon. When disapproval is heightened with 
Anger, the dread inspired is much greater. The victim 
anticipates a more severe infliction when the angry 
passion has been roused ; hence the supposition is 
natural that anger is an aid to discipline. This, how- 
ever, needs qualifying. Of course any increase of 
severity has a known deterrent efiect, with whatever 
drawbacks may attend the excess. But anger is fitful ; 
and, therefore, its co-operation mars discipline by want 



REGULATED ANGER. JJ 

of measure, and want of consistency ; when the fit has 
passed, the mind often relapses into a mood unfavour- 
able to a proper amount of repression. 

The function of anger in discipline may be something 
very grand, provided the passion can be controlled. 
There is a fine attitude of indignation against wrong 
that may be assumed with the best effect. It supposes 
the most perfect self-command, and is no more excited 
than seems befitting the occasion. Mankind would not 
be contented to see the bench of Justice occupied by a 
calculating machine that turned up a penalty of five 
pounds, or a month's imprisonment, when certain facts 
were dropped in at the hopper. A regulated expression 
of angry feeling is a force in itself Neither containing 
fitfulness, nor conducting to excess of infliction, it is the 
awe-inspiring personation of Justice, and is often suffi- 
cient to quell insubordination. 

TJic Emotion of Pozver. 

The state named the feeling or emotion of Power 
expresses a first-class motive of the human mind. It is, 
however, shown, with great probability, not to be an in- 
dependent source df emotion. It very often consists of 
a direct reference to possessions or worldly abundance. 
In other cases, I cannot doubt that the pleasure of male- 
volent infliction is an element. The love of domineering, 
or subjecting other people's wills, would be much less 
attractive than it is, if malevolent possibilities were 
wholly left out. 

Power in the actual is given by bodily and mental 
superiority, by wealth, and by offices of command. 



78 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — POWER. 

Hence it can be enjoyed in any high degree only by a 
few. It is, however, capable of great ideal expansion ; 
we can derive gratification from the contemplation of 
superior power, and the outlets for this are numerous, 
including not merely the operations of living beings, 
but the forces of inanimate nature. For example, the 
Sublime is an ideal of great might or power. 

We have now almost, but not quite, led up to the 
much-urged educational motive, the gratification of the 
sense of self-activity in the pupils. This must afterwards 
undergo a very searching examination. Let us, how- 
ever, first briefly review another leading class of well- 
marked feelings, those designated by the familiar terms 
— Self-complacency, Pride, Vanity, Love of Applause. 
Whether these be simple or compound in their nature, 
they represent feelings of great intensity, and they are 
specially invoked in the sphere of education. 

The Emotions of Self. 

' Self is a very wide word. ' Selfish,' ' Self-seeking,' 
' Self-love,' might be employed without bringing any 
new emotions to the front. All the sources of pleasure, 
and all the exemptions from pain, that have been or 
might be enumerated, under the SAises and the Emo- 
tions, being totalized, could be designated as * Self or 
* Self-interest.' But connected with the terms Self- 
esteem, Self-complacency, Pride, Vanity, Love of Praise, 
there are new varieties of feeling, albeit they are but 
offshoots from some of those already given. It is not 
our business to trace the precise derivation of these 
complex modes, except to aid in estimating their value 
as a distinct class of motives. 



SELF-GRATULATION. — LOVE OF PRAISE. 79 

There is an undoubted pleasure in finding in our- 
selves some of those qualities that, seen in other men, 
call forth our love, admiration, reverence, or esteem. 
The names self-complacency, self-gratulation, self-esteem, 
indicate emotions of no little force. They have a good 
influence in promoting the attainment of excellence ; 
their defect is ascribable to our enormous self-partiality : 
for which cause they are usually concealed from the 
jealous gaze of our fellows. It is only on very special 
occasions that persuasion is made to operate through 
these powerful feelings ; they are too ready to turn round 
and make demands that cannot be complied with. 

A still higher form of self-reflected sentiment is that 
designated by the Love of Praise and Admiration. We 
necessarily feel an enhanced delight when our own good 
opinion of self is echoed and sustained by the expres- 
sions of others. This is one of the most stirring influ- 
ences that man can exert over man. It exists in many 
gradations, according to our love, regard, or admiration 
for the persons bestowing it, as well as our dependence 
upon them, and according to the number joining in the 
tribute. 

The bestowal of praise is an act of justice to real 
merit, and should take place apart from ulterior consider- 
ations. But in rewarding, as in punishing, we cannot 
help looking beyond the present ; we have in our eye 
merits that are yet to be achiev^ed. The fame that 
attends intellectual eminence is an incentive to study, 
and the educator has this great instrument at his com- 
mand. 

Praise, to be effectual and safe, has to be carefully 
ai^portioned, so as to approve itself to all concerned. As 



8o PLAY OF MOTIVES :— SELF. 

the act of praising does not terminate with the moment, 
but establishes claims for the future, thoughtless profusion 
of compliment defeats itself Praise may operate in the 
form of warm kindly expression, and no more ; in which 
sense it is an offering of affection, arid has a value in 
that character alone. A pleased smile is a moral in- 
fluence. 

Discipline, properly so called, works in the direction 
of pain ; pleasures are therein viewed in their painful 
obverse. The positive value of delights is of conse- 
quence only as the starting-point wherefrom to count 
the efficacy of deprivations. The pains opposed to the 
pleasures of Self-esteem and Praise are among the most 
powerful weapons in the armoury of the disciplinarian. 
They are the chief reliance of such as deprecate corporal 
inflictions. Bentham's elaborate scheme of discipline 
in the ' Chrestomathia ' is a manipulation of the mo^ 
tives of Praise and Dispraise, which he would fain make 
us believe to be all-sufficient. 

Of the two divisions of the present class of emotions, 
namely, Self-esteem on the one hand, and Desire of 
Praise on the other, the opposite of the first — Self- 
reproach, Self-humbling — is very little under foreign 
influence. To induce people to think meanly of them- 
selves is no easy task ; with the mass of human beings 
it is well-nigh hopeless. Any success that attends the 
endeavour is to be traced to the second member of the 
class under discussion, namely. Dispraise, Depreciation. 
There is no mistaking our aim here ; we can make our 
power felt in this form, whether it has the other effect or 
not. People live so much on one another's good opinion 
that the remission tells in an instant ; from the simple 



LOVE OF KNOWLEDGE. 8 1 

abateme'nt or loss of estimation there is a descent into 
the depths of disesteem with a result of unspeakable 
suffering. The efforts that the victim makes to right 
himself under censure only show how keenly it is felt. 
There can be little doubt that on the delicate handling 
of this instrument must depend the highest refinements 
of moral control. 

The Emotions of Intellect. 

The pleasurable emotions incident to the exercise of 
the Intellectual Powers have not the formidable mag- 
nitude that we have assigned to the foregoing groups. 
Indeed, even on the occasions when they seem to burst 
forth with an intense glow, we can discern the presence of 
emanations from these other great fountains of feeling. 

It is an effort of prime importance to trace exhaus- 
tively the inducements and allurements to intellectual 
exertion. What are the intrinsic charms of knowledge, 
whether in pursuit or in possession .-' The difficulty of 
the answer is increased, rather than diminished, by the 
flow of fifty years' rhetoric. 

Knowledge has such a wide compass, embraces such 
various ingredients, that, until we discriminate the kinds 
of it, we cannot speak precisely either of the charms it 
possesses or of the absence of charm. Some sorts of 
knowledge are interesting to everybody ; some interest 
only a few. The serious part of the case is, that the 
most valuable kinds of knowledge are often the least 
interesting. 

The important distinction to be drawn here is be- 
tween Individual or Concrete Knowledge, and General 
or Abstract Knowledge. As a rule, particulars are 



82 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — EMOTIONS OF INTELLECT. 

interesting as well as easy ; generals uninteresting and 
hard. When particulars are not interesting, it is often 
from their being overshadowed by generals. When 
generals are made interesting, it is by a happy reflected 
influence upon the particulars. It would serve nearly 
all the purposes of the teacher to know the best means 
of overcoming the repugnance and the abstruseness of 
general knowledge. 

Waiving for a time the niceties of the abstract idea, 
and the obstacles in the way of its being readily com- 
prehended, we may here adduce certain motives that co- 
operate with the teacher's endeavours to impress it. A 
little attention, however, must first be given to the 
various kinds of interest that pertain to individual or 
particular facts. 

Any kind of knowledge, whether particular or more 
or less general, that is obviously involved in any of the 
strong feelings or emotions that we have passed in re- 
view, is by that very fact interesting. Now a great 
many kinds of knowledge are implicated with those 
various feelings. To avoid pains, and obtain pleasures, 
it is often necessary to know certain things, and we 
willingly apply our minds to learn those things ; and the 
more so, the more evident their bearing upon the grati- 
fication of our desires. A vast quantity of information 
respecting the world, and respecting human beings, is 
gained in this way ; and it constitutes an important 
basis of even the highest acquisitions. 

The readiness to imbibe this immediately fructifying 
knowledge is qualified by its being difficult or abstruse ; 
we often prefer ignorance, even in matters of consequence, 
to intellectual labour. 



INTEREST OF UTILITY. 83 

AH the natural objects that bear upon our subsistence, 
our wants, our pleasures, our exemptions from pain, are 
individually interesting to us, and become known in 
respect of their special efficacy. Our food, and all the 
means of procuring it, our clothing and shelter, our 
means of protection, our sense-stimulants, are studied 
with avidity, and remembered with ease. This depart- 
ment of knowledge, notwithstanding its vital concern, is 
apt to be considered as grovelling ; it has, however, the 
recommendation of truth. We do not encourage our- 
selves in any deceptions in such matters ; and, if we 
make mistakes, it is owing to the obscurity of the case, 
rather than to our indifterence, or to any motive for per- 
verting the facts. Indeed, this is the department that 
first supplied to mankind the best criterion of certainty. 

There is a different class of objects that appeal, not 
to the more pressing utilities of subsistence, safety, and 
comfort, but to the gratifications of the higher senses and 
the emotions : the pleasures of touch, sight and hearing ; 
the social and anti-social emotions. These comprise all 
the more striking objects of the world : — the sun and 
the celestial sphere, the earth's gay colouring, sublime 
vastness, the innumerable objects — inanimate and ani- 
mate — that tickle some sense or emotion. In proportion 
as human beings are set free from the struggle for sub- 
sistence, do they lay themselves open to these influences, 
and so enlarge the sphere of natural knowledge. In- 
dividual things become interesting and known, from 
inspiring these feelings. The culminating interest, how- 
ever, is in living beings, and especially persons of our 
own species. The intellectual impressions thus left upon 
us are lively, but not necessarily correct to the facts. 



84 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — EMOTIONS OF INTELLECT, 

However all this may be, it is to individual things 
that we must refer the first beginnings of knowledge, the 
interest and the facility of acquisition. There are great 
inequalities in this interest and consequent facility. 
Many individual objects inspire no interest at all in the 
first instance ; while some of them become interesting 
afterwards, in consequence of our discovering in them 
relationships to things of interest. 

One notable distinction among the objects of know- 
ledge is the distinction between movement or change, 
and stillness or inaction. It is movement that excites 
us most ; still life is rendered interesting by reference 
to movement. We are aroused and engrossed by all 
moving things ; our attention is turned away from ob- 
jects at rest to contemplate movements ; and we imbibe 
with great rapidity the impressions of moving objects. 

This brief survey of the sphere of Individuality and 
of the various attractions presented by individuals is 
preparatory to the consideration of the most arduous 
part of knowledge — the knowledge of generals or Gene- 
rality. All the difficulties of the higher knowledge have 
reference to the generalizing process — the seeing of one 
in many. The arts of the teacher and the expositor are 
supremely requisite in sweetening the toil of this opera- 
tion. At the present stage, hoAvever, the question is to 
assign the motives connected with general knowledge as 
distinct from individual knowledge. 

General knowledge, represented by Science, consists 
in holding together, by a single grasp, whole classes of 
objects, of facts, of operations. This must, by the very 
nature of the case, be more severe than holding an in- 
dividual. To form an idea of one tree that we have 



FLASH OF IDENTITY IN DIVERSITY. 85 

repeatedly surveyed at leisure round and round, is about 
the easiest exertion whether of attention or of memory. 
To form an idea of ten trees partly agreeing and partly 
differing among themselves, is manifestly an entirely 
altered task ; it is to exchange comparative simplicity 
for arduous complexity: yet this is what is needed every- 
where in the higher knowledge. 

- The first emotional effect attendant on the process 
of generalizing facts, and serving to lighten the intel- 
lectual burden, is the flash of identity in diversity ; an 
exhilarating charm that has been felt in every age by 
the searchers after truth. Many of the grandest dis- 
coveries in science have consisted, not in bringing to 
light any new individual fact, but in seeing a likeness 
between things formerly regarded as wholly unlike. 
Such was the great discovery of gravitation. The first 
flash of the recognition of a common power in the 
motions of the planets and the flight of a projectile on 
the earth was unutterably splendid ; and after a hundred 
repetitions, the emotional charm is unexhausted. 

With the emotion of exhilarating surprise at the 
discovery of likeness among things seemingly unlike, 
there is another grateful feeling — the relief from an 
intellectual burden. This appears at first sight a con- 
tradiction to what has been already said respecting the 
greater laboriousness of general knowledge ; but the 
contrariety is only apparent. To contract an impres- 
sion of one single individual, after plenty of time given 
to attend to it, is the easiest supposable mental effort. 
But such is the multiplicity of things, that we must 
learn to know, and remember, vast numbers of indivi- 
duals ; and we soon feel ourselves overpowered by the 



86 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — EMOTIONS OF INTELLECT. 

never-ending demands upon us. We must know many- 
persons, many places, many houses, many natural ob- 
jects ; and our capability of memory is in danger of 
exhaustion before we have done. Now, however, comes 
in the discovery of identities, by which the work is 
shortened. If a new individual is exactly the same as 
the old, we are saved the labour of a new impression ; 
if there is a slight difference, we have to learn that 
difference and no more. In actual experience, the case 
is, that there are numerous agreements in the world, but 
accompanied with differences ; and while we have the 
benefit of the agreements, we must take notice of the 
differences. What makes a general notion difficult is 
that it represents a large number of objects that, while 
agreeing in some respects, differ in others. This diffi- 
culty is the price that we pay for an enormous saving in 
intellectual labour. 

The overcoming of isolation in the multitude of 
particulars, by flashes of identity, is the progress of our 
knowledge in one direction ; it is the satisfaction that 
we express when we say we understand or can account 
for a thing. Lightning was accounted for when it was 
identified with the electric spark. Besides the exhilara- 
ting surprise at the sameness of two facts in their nature 
so different and remote, men had the further satisfaction 
of saying that they learned what lightning is. Thus by 
discoveries of identity we are enabled to explain the 
world, to assign the causes of things, to dissipate in 
part the mysteriousness that everywhere surrounds us. 

When a discovery of identification is made among 
particulars hitherto looked upon as diverse, the interest 
created is all-sufficient to secure our appreciation. This 



REPUGNANT ASPECT OF GENERALITIES. 8y 

is the alluring side of generalities. The repugnant aspect 
of them is seen in the technical language invented to 
hold and express them — general or abstract designations, 
diagrams, formulas. When it is proposed to indoc- 
trinate the mind in these things, by themselves, and 
at a stage when the condensing and explaining power 
of the identities is as yet unawakened, the whole ma- 
chinery seems an uncouth jargon. Hence the attempt to 
afford relief to the faculties by teaching the dry symbols 
of Arithmetic and Geometry through the aid of examples 
in the concrete, and, in all the abstract sciences, to afford 
plenty of particulars to illustrate the generalities. This 
is good so far ; but the real interest that overcomes the 
dryness arises only when we can apply the generalities 
in tracing identities, in solving difficulties, and in short- 
ening labour ; an effect that comes soonest to those 
that have already some familiarity with the field where 
the formulas are applicable. The liking for Algebra and 
for Geometry proceeds apace when one sees the marvels 
of curious problems solved, unlikely properties discovered, 
among numbers and geometrical figures. A certain ease 
in holding in the memory the abstract symbols, after a 
moderate application, is enough to prepare us for a posi- 
tive relish in the pursuit. Such is the case with gene- 
ralities in all departments. If we can hold on till they 
bear their fruits in the explanation of things that we 
have already begun to take notice of, the pursuit is 
sustained by a genuine and proper scientific interest, 
whose real groundwork, however deeply hidden, is the 
stimulus of agreement among differing particulars, and 
the lightening of the intellectual labour in comprehend- 
ing the world. These are the feelings that have to be 



88 PLAY OF MOTIVES :— EMOTIONS OF INTELLECT. 

awakened in the minds of pupils when groaning under 
the burden of abstractions. 

The opposition of the Concrete and the Abstract, 
while but another way of expressing the opposition of 
the Particular and the General, brings into greater pro- 
minence the highly composite or combined character of 
Individuality. The individual thing is usually a com- 
pound of many qualities, each of which has to be ab- 
stracted in turn, in rising to general notions : any 
individual ball has, in addition to its round form, the 
properties called weight, hardness, colour, and so on. 
Now this composite nature, by charming several senses 
at once, gives a greater interest to individuals, and 
urges us to resist that process of decomposition, and 
separate attention, known by the designations ' abstrac- 
tion ' and ' analysis.' It is for individuals in all their 
multiplicity of influence that we contract likings or affec- 
tions ; and in proportion as the charm of sense, and 
especially the colour sense, is strong in us, we are averse 
to the classing or generalizing operation. A fire is an 
object of strong individual interest : to rise from this to 
the general notion of the oxidation of carbon under all 
varieties of mode, including cases with no intrinsic charm, 
is to quit with reluctance an agreeable contemplation. 
The emotions now described — the pleasure of identity, 
and the lightening of labour — are of avail to counter- 
work this reluctance. 

The second of the two motives that we have coupled 
together — the easing of intellectual labour — may be 
viewed in another light. When objects are regarded as 
operating agents in the economy of the world, as causes 
or instruments of change, they work by their qualities 



PROMPTING TO ANALYSIS. 89 

or powers in separation, and not by their entire indivi- 
duality or concreteness. An iron bar, or a poker, is an 
individual concrete thing ; but when we come to use it, 
we put in action its various quaUties separately. We 
may employ it as a weight ; in which case its other pro- 
perties are of no account. We may use it as a lever, and 
then we bring into play simply its length and its tenacity. 
W^e can put it in motion as a moving power, when its 
inertia alone is taken into account, with perhaps its form. 
In all these instances, the magnetical and the chemical 
and the medicinal properties of iron are unthought of. 
Now this consideration discloses an important aid to the 
abstracting process — the analytic separation of properties, 
as opposed to the mind's fondness for clinging to con- 
crete individuality. When we are working out practical 
ends, we must follow nature's method of working ; and, 
as that is by isolating the separate qualities, we must 
perform the act of mental isolation, which is to abstract, 
or consider one power to the neglect of the rest. When 
we want to put forth heavy pressure, we think of various 
bodies solely as they can exert weight, however many 
other ways they may invite or charm our sense. This 
is to generalize or form a general notion of weight ; 
and the motive to conceive it, is practical need or ne- 
cessity. 

This motive of practical need at once brings us to 
the very core of Causation, viewed as a merely specula- 
tive notion. The cause of anything is the agent that 
would bring that thing into being, suppose we were in 
want of it. The cause of warmth in a room is combus- 
tion properly arranged. We use this fact for practical 
purposes, and we may also use it for satisfying mere 



90 PLAY OF MOTIVES : — EMOTIONS OF INTELLECT. 

curiosity. We enter a warm room ; we may desire to 
know how it has been made warm, and we are satisfied 
by being told that there has been, or is now somewhere, 
a fire in communication with it. 

Thus it is that in proportion as we come to operate 
upon the world practically ourselves, and from that pro- 
ceed to contemplate causation at large, we are driven 
upon the abstracting and analyzing process, so repug- 
nant to one large portion of our feelings. Science finds 
an opening in our minds at this point, when otherwise 
we might need the proverbial surgical operation. 

These observations will serve to illustrate the working 
of the emotion named Curiosity, which is justly held to 
be a great power in teaching. Curiosity expresses the 
emotions of knowledge viewed as desire ; and, more 
especially, the desire to surmount an intellectual diffi- 
culty once felt Genuine curiosity belongs to the stage 
of advanced and correct views of the world. 

Much of the curiosity of children, and of others 
besides children, is a spurious article. Frequently it is a 
mere display of egotism, the delight in giving trouble, 
in being pandered to and served. Questions are put, 
not from the desire of rational information, but from the 
love of excitement. Occasionally, the inquisitiveness of 
a child provides an opportunity for imparting a piece of 
real information ; but far oftener not. By ingeniously 
circumventing a scientific fact, one not too high for a 
child's comprehension, we may awaken curiosity and 
succeed in impressing the fact. Try a child to lift a 
heavy weight first by the direct pull, and then by a 
lever or a set of pulleys, and probably you will excite 



CURIOSITY IN CHILDREN. 9I 

some surprise and wonder, with a desire to know some- 
thing further about the instrumentahty. But one fatal 
defect of the childish mind is the ascendancy of the 
personal or anthropomorphic conception of cause. This 
no doubt is favourable to the theological explanation of 
the world, but wholly unsuited to physical science. A 
child, if it had any curiosity at all, would like to know 
what makes the grass grow, the rain fall, the wind howl, 
and generally all things that are occasional and excep- 
tional ; an indifference being contracted towards what 
is familiar, constant, and regular. When anything goes 
wrong, the child has the wish to set it right, and is 
anxious to know what will answer the purpose : this is 
the inlet of practice, and, by this, correct knowledge 
may find its way to the mind, provided the power of 
comprehension is sufficiently matured. Still, the radi- 
cal obstacle remains — -the impossibility of approaching 
science at random, or taking it in any order ; we must 
begin at the proper beginning, and we may not always 
contrive to tickle the curiosity at the exact stage of the 
pupil's understanding. Every teacher knows, or should 
know, the little arts of giving a touch of wonder and 
mystery to a fact before giving the explanation ; all 
which is found to tell in the regular march of exposi- 
tion, but would be lost labour in any other course. 

The very young, those that we are working upon by 
gentle allurement, are not fully competent to learn the 
' how ' or the ' wherefore ' of any important natural fact ; 
they cannot even be made to desire the thing in the 
proper way. They are open chiefly to the charm of 
sense, novelty, and variety, which, together with acci- 
dental charm or liking, impresses the pictorial or concrete 



92 PLAY OF MOTIVES :— EMOTIONS OF ACTIVITY. 

aspects of the world, whether quiescent or changing, the 
last being the most powerful. They farther are capable 
of understanding the more palpable conditions of many 
changes, without penetrating to ultimate causes. They 
learn that to light a fire there must be fuel and a light 
applied ; that the growth of vegetables needs planting 
or sowing, together with rain and sunshine through a 
summer season. The empirical knowledge of the world 
that preceded science is still the knowledge that the 
child passes through in the way to science ; and all this 
may be guided so as to prepare for the future scientific 
revelations. In other respects, the so-called curiosity of 
children is chiefly valuable as yielding ludicrous situa- 
tions for our comic literature. 



The Emotions of Activity. 

Nothing is more frequently prescribed in education 
than to foster the pupils' own activity, to put them in 
the way of discovering facts and principles for them- 
selves. This position needs to be carefully surveyed. 

There is, in the human system, a certain spontaneity 
of action, the result of central energy, independent of 
any feelings that may accompany the exercise. It is 
great in children ; and it marks special individuals, who 
are said to possess the active temperament. It dis- 
tinguishes races and nationalities of human beings, and 
is illustrated in the differences among the animal tribes ; 
it also varies with general bodily vigour. This activity 
would burst out and discharge itself in some form of 
exertion, whether useful or useless, even if the result 
were perfectly indifferent as regards pleasure or pain. 



SPONTANEOUS ACTIVITY. 93 

We usually endeavour to turn it to account by giving 
it a profitable direction, instead of letting it run to 
waste or something worse. It expends itself in a 
longer or a shorter time, but, while any portion of it 
remains, exertion is not burdensome. 

Although the spontaneous flow of activity is best 
displayed and is most intelligible in the department of 
muscular exercise, it applies also to the senses and the 
nerves, and comprises mental action as well as bodily. 
The intellectual strain of attention, of volition, of 
memory, and of thought, proceeds to a certain length 
by mere fulness of power, after rest and renovation ; 
and may be counted on to this extent as involving 
nothing essentially toilsome. Here, too, a good direc- 
tion is all that is wanted to make a profitable result. 

The activity thus assumed as independent of feeling 
is nevertheless accompanied with feeling, and that feel- 
ing is essentially pleasurable : the pleasure being greatest 
at first. The presence of pleasure is the standing 
motive to action ; and all the natural activity of the 
system — whether muscular or nervous — brings an 
effluence of pleasure, until a certain point of depletion 
is arrived at. 

If, further, our activity is employed productively, or 
in yielding any gratification beyond the mere exercise, 
this is so much added to the pleasures of action. When, 
besides the delight of intellectual exercise, we obtain 
for ourselves the gratification of fresh knowledge, we 
i^eem to attain the full pleasure due to the employment 
of the intellect. 

Much more, however, is meant by the gratification 

of the self-activity of the learner. That expression 
6 



94 PLAY OF MOTIVES : — EMOTIONS OF ACTIVITY. 

points to the acquiring of knowledge^ as little as pos- 
sible by direct communication, and as much as possible 
by the mind's own exertion in working it out from the 
raw materials. We are to place the pupil as nearly as 
may be in the track of the first discoverer, and thus 
impart the stimulus of invention, with the accompanying 
outburst of self-gratulation and triumph. This bold 
fiction is sometimes put forward as one of the regular 
arts of the teacher; but I should prefer to consider it 
as an extraordinary device, admissible only on special 
occasions. 

It is an obvious defect in teaching to keep continu- 
ally lecturing pupils, without asking them in turn to 
reproduce and apply what is said. This is no doubt 
a sin against the pupil's self- activity, but rather in the 
manner than in the fact. Listening and imbibing con- 
stitute a mode of activity ; only it may be overdone in 
being out of proportion to the other exercises requisite 
for fixing our knowledge. When these other activities 
are fairly plied, the pupil may have a certain complacent 
satisfaction in his or her own efficiency as a learner, 
and this is a fair and legitimate reward to an apt pupil. 
It does not assume any independent self-sufficiency ; it 
merely supposes an adequate comprehension and a 
faithful reproduction of the knowledge communicated. 
The praise or approbation of the master, and of others 
interested, is a superadded reward. 

Notwithstanding, there still remains, if we could 
command it, a tenfold power in the feeling of origina- 
tion, invention, or creation ; but as this can hardly ever 
be actual, the suggestion is to give it in fiction or imagi- 
nation. Now, it is one of the delicate arts of an accom- 



PRIDE OF ORIGINATION. 95 

plished instructor, to lay before the pupils a set of facts 
pointing to a conclusion, and to leave them to draw the 
conclusion for themselves. Exactly to hit the mean 
between a leap too small to have any merit, and one too 
wide for the ordinary pupil, is a fine adjustment and a 
great success. All this, however, belongs to the occa- 
sional luxuries, the bon-bons of teaching, and cannot be 
included under the daily routine. 

It is to be borne in mind that although the pride of 
origination is a motive of extraordinary power, and in 
some minds surpasses every other motive, and has a 
great charm even in a fictitious example, yet it is not in 
all minds the only extraneous motive that may aid the 
teacher. There is a counter motive of sympathy, affec- 
tion, and admiration for superior wisdom, which operates 
in the other direction ; giving a zest in receiving and 
imbibing to the letter what is imparted, and jealously 
restraining any independent exercise of judgment such 
as would share the credit with the instructor. This 
tendency is no doubt liable to run into slavishness and 
to favour the perpetuation of error and the stagnation 
of the human mind ; but a certain measure of it is only 
becoming the attitude of a learner. It accompanies a 
proper sense of what is the fact, namely, that the 
learner is a learner and not a teacher or a discoverer, 
and has to receive a great deal with mere passive 
acquiescence, before venturing to suggest any improve- 
ments; Unreasoning blind faith is indispensable in 
beginning any art or science ; the pupil has to lay up a 
stock of notions before having any materials for dis- 
covery or origination. There is a right moment for 
relaxing this attitude, and for assuming the exercise of 



96 PLAY OF MOTIVES :— FINE ART. 

independence ; but it has scarcely arrived while the 
schoolmaster is still at work. Even in the higher walks 
of university teaching, independence is premature, un- 
less in some exceptional minds, and the attempt of 
masters to proceed upon it, and to invite the free criti- 
cism of pupils, does not appear ever to have been very 
fruitful.^ 

TJie Emotions of Fine Art. 

This is necessarily a wide subject, but for our purpose 
a few select points will be enough. The proper and 
principal end of Art is enjoyment. Now, whatever is 
able to contribute on the great scale to our enjoyment, 
is a power over all that we do. The bearings of this on 
education are to be seen. 

The Art Emotions are seldom looked upon as a 
mere source of enjoyment. They are apt to be regarded 
in preference as a moral power, and an aid to education 
at every point. Nevertheless, we should commence with 

' It would lead us too far, although it might not be uninstructive, to 
reflect upon the evil side of this fondness for giving a new and self-suggested 
cast to all received knowledge. It introduces change for the mere sake of 
change and never lets well alone. It multiplies variations of form and 
phraseology for expressing the same facts, and so renders all subjects more 
perplexed than they need be ; not to speak of controverting what is 
established, because it is established, and allowing nothing ever to settle. 
Owing to a dread of the feverish love of change, certain works that have 
accidentally received an ascendancy, such as the Elements of Euclid, are 
retained notwithstanding their imperfections. The acquiescent multitude 
of minds regard this as a less evil than letting loose the men of action and 
revolution to vie with each other in distracting alterations, while there is no 
judicial power to hold the balance. It is a received maxim in the tactics of 
legislation that no scheme, however well matured, can pass a popular body 
without amendment ; it is not in collective human nature to accept any- 
thing simpliciter, without having a finger in the pie. 



MUSIC 97 

recognizing in them a means of pleasure as such, a pure 
hedonic factor; in which capacity they are a final end. 
Their function in intellectual education is the function 
of all pleasure when not too great, namely, to cheer, 
refresh, and encourage us in our work. 

There are certain general effects of Art that come 
in well at the very beginning. Such are symmetry, 
order, rhythm, and simple design and proportion ; which 
are the adjuncts of the school, just as they should be 
the adjuncts of home life. Proportion, simple design, 
a certain amount of colour, are the suitable elements of 
the school interior ; to which are added tidiness, neat- 
ness, and arrangement, among the pupils themselves; 
only this must not be worrying and oppressive. 

In the exercises suited to infants, Time and Rhythm 
are largely employed. 

Of all the fine arts, the most available, universal and 
influential is Music. This is perhaps the most unexcep- 
tionable, as well as the cheapest, of human pleasures. It 
has been seized upon with avidity by the human race in 
all times ; so much so, that we wonder how life could 
ever have been passed without it. In the earlier stages, 
it was united with Poetry, and the poetical element was 
of equal, if not of greater, power than the musical 
accompaniment. As the ethical instructors of mankind 
have always disavowed the pursuit of pleasure as such, 
and allowed it only as subsidiary to morality and social 
duty, the question with legislators has been what form 
of music is best calculated to educe the moral virtues 
and the nobler characteristics of the mind. It was this 
view that entered into the speculative social constructions 
of Plato and of Aristotle. Now, undoubtedly the various 



98 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — FINE ART. 

modes of music operate very differently on the mind ; 
everyone knows the extremes of martial and ecclesiastical 
music ; and fancy can insert many intermediate grades.' 

For the moment a musical strain exerts immense 
power over the mind, to animate, to encourage, to soothe, 
and to console. But the facts do not bear us out in at- 
tributing to it any permanent moral influence ; nothing 
is more fugitive than the excitement of a musical per- 
formance. Excepting its value as a substantive con- 
tribution to the enjoyment of life, I am not able to affirm 
that it has any influence on education, whether moral or 
intellectual. Certainly, if it has any effect in the moral 
sphere, it has none that I can trace in the sphere of in- 
tellect. As a recreative variety in the midst of toil, it 
deserves every encomium. In those exercises that are 
half recreative, half educational, as drill and gymnastics, 
the accompaniment of a band is most stimulating. In 
the Kindergarten it is well brought in, as the wind- 
up to the morning's work. But music during ordinary 
lessons, or during any sort of intellectual work, is mere 
distraction, as everyone knows from the experience of 
street bands and organs. 

Excess in the pleasures of music, like every other 
excess, is unfavourable to mental culture. But some of 
the most intellectual men that ever lived have been de- 

' Plato, in the Republic, wishing to train a vigorous and hardy race, 
interdicted not simply the unfavourable musical strains, but the instruments 
most adapted to these. He permits only the lyre and the harp, with the 
panspipe for shepherds attending their flocks ; forbidding both the flute 
and all complicated stringed instruments. Disallowing the lugubrious, 
passionate, soft, and convivial modes of music, he tolerates none but the 
Dorian and the Phrygian, suitable to a sober, resolute, courageous frame of 
mind ; to which also the rhythm and movement of the body is to be 
adapted. (Grote's Plato, III. 196.) 



POETRY. 99 

votees of music. In the case of Luther, it seems to 
have been incorporated with his whole being ; Milton 
invoked it as an aid in poetic inspiration. These were 
men whose genius largely involved their emotions. But 
the musical enthusiasm of Jeremy Bentham could have 
no bearing on his work, further than as so much enjoy- 
ment. 

Poetry is music and a great deal more. Its bearings 
are more numerous and complicated. In the ruder 
stages of music, when it accompanied poetry, the main 
effects lay in the poetry. The poetic form — the rhythm 
and the metre — impresses the ear, and is an aid to 
memory ; whence it has been transferred from the proper 
themes of poetry to very prosaic subjects by way of a 
mnemonic device. The subject-matter of poetry com- 
prises the stirring narrative, which is an enormous power 
in human life, and the earliest intellectual stimulus in 
education. 

The Ethical Emotions, 

The feelings called Ethical, or Moral, from their very 
meaning, are the support of all good and right conduct. 
The other emotions may be made to point to this end, 
but they may also work in the opposite direction. 

When the educator describes these in more precise 
and equivalent phraseology, he generally singles out re- 
gard to the pleasure and displeasure of parents and 
superiors, together with habits or dispositions towards 
obedience ; all which is the result of culture and growth. 

Any primitive feelings conspiring towards good con- 
duct must be of the nature of the sympathies or social 
yearnings ; which are called into exercise in definite 

Lora 



lOO PLAY OF MOTIVES : — ETHICAL EMOTIONS. 

ways, well known to all students of human nature. By 
far the most powerful stimulus to acts of goodness to- 
wards others, is good conduct on the part of others : 
whoever can resist this is a fit subject for the govern- 
ment of fear, and nothing else. The law says, * Do unto 
others as ye zvoidd that they should do unto you.' The 
lower ground of practice is, ' Do unto others as they 
do unto you.' This is as far as the very young can 
reach in moral virtue. 

It is too much to expect in early years generous and 
disinterested impulses, unreciprocated. The young have 
little to call their own ; they have no means. Their 
fortune is their free, unrestrained vivacity, their elation, 
and their hopes. If they freely give up any part of this, 
it is in consideration of equivalent benefits. They are 
susceptible of being worked up to moments of self- 
renunciation ; in which they may commit their future 
irrevocably, without knowing what they are about. But 
they cannot be counted on for daily, persistent self- 
restraint, willingly encountered, unless there be some 
seen reward, present or in the distance. It takes a good 
deal to bring anyone even up to the point of rendering 
quid pro quo in all things. 

The Feelings as Appealed to in Discipline. 

The survey that has now been made of the sensibili- 
ties of the human mind, available as motives, prepares 
for the consideration of Discipline in teaching. The 
instructor finds that, in school moments, and for school 
purposes, he has to restrain all the unruly impulses, and 
to overbear the sluggishness of the youthful nature. To 
succeed in this requirement many arts are employed, 



ERRONEOUS MODES OF DISCIPLINE. lOI 

corresponding to the wide compass of sensations and 
emotions that agitate the human breast. 

The question how to maintain discipline among 
masses of human beings is of very wide appHcation, and 
is therefore the subject of a great variety of experiments 
In the wide field of moral control, it includes a principal 
function of government, namely, the repression of crime ; 
a department that has lately received much attention. 
To collect all the lights furnished in each of the spheres 
where moral control has to be exercised, is to contribute 
to the illumination of each. There has, undoubtedly, in 
former times, been very great mismanagement in almost 
every one of the regions of repressive authority — in the 
state, in the family, and in the school ; in all which an 
excess of human misery has been habitually engendered 
by badness in the manner of exercising control. It is, 
perhaps, in the family that the mischief is most widely 
spread and most baneful. 

By degrees we have become aware of various errors 
that ran through the former methods of discipline, in the 
several institutions of the state, as well as in the family. 
We have discovered the evil of working by fear alone, 
and still more by fear of coarse, painful, and degrading 
inflictions. We have discovered that occasions of offence 
can be avoided by a variety of salutary arrangements, 
such as to check the very disposition to unruly conduct. 
W^e consider that a great discovery has been made in 
regard to punishments, by the enunciation of the maxim 
that certainty is more important than severity ; to which 
should be added, proportion to the offence. We also 
consider that by a suitable training, or education, the 
dispositions that lead to disorder and crime can be 



I02 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — DISCIPLINE. 

checked in the bud ; and that, until there has been room 
for such training to operate, the mind should not be 
exposed to temptation. We have become accustomed 
to lay more stress than was formerly done upon culti- 
vating the amicable relations of human beings ; the 
tendency of which is to abridge the sphere of injurious 
conduct on the part of individuals. 

The consideration of discipline in Education supposes 
the relation of a teacher to a class ; one man or woman 
exercising over a body of pupils the authority requisite 
for the work in hand. Nevertheless, it is not lost time 
to advert, in the first instance, to the maxims pertaining 
to authority in general. 

Authority, government, power over others is not an 
end in itself; it is only a means. Further, its operation 
is an evil ; it seriously abates human happiness. The 
restraint upon free agency, the infliction of pain on in- 
dividuals, the setting up a reign of terror — all this is 
justified solely by the prevention of evils out of all pro- 
portion to the misery that it inflicts. This might seem 
self-evident ; but is not so. The deep-seated male- 
volence and lust of domination in the human mind 
make the necessity of government a pretext for excesses 
in severity and repression ; to which must be added 
the opportunity of preying upon the substance of the 
governed. 

The philosophy of society now endeavours to formu- 
late the limits to authority, and to the employment of 
repressive severities. Not only is authority restricted 
to the mildest penalties that will answer its purpose ; 
but its very existence has to be justified in each case 
that arises. 



THE FAMILY AND THE SCHOOL. IO3 

Authority is not necessary to every teaching relation. 
'A willing pupil coming up to a master to be taught, is 
not entering into a relationship of authority ; it is a mere 
voluntary compact, terminable at the pleasure of each. 
There is no more authority over the assemblies of grown 
men to hear lectures, than over the worshippers at church, 
or the frequenters of the play. There is nothing but the 
observance of mutual toleration and forbearance so far 
as is requisite to the common good ; if this were grossly 
v^iolated, there would be an exercise of power either by 
the collective mass themselves, or by summoning the 
constable to their aid. No authority is lodged in the 
lecturer, the preacher, or the performer, to repress dis- 
turbances. 

Authority tirst appears in the family, and is thence 
transferred with modifications to the school. It is 
between these two institutions that the comparison is 
most suggestive. The parent's authority is associated 
with sustenance, and has an almost unlimited range. It 
is tempered by affection, but this depends upon mutu- 
ality of pleasure-giving, and supposes a limited number. 
The teacher's authority has nothing to do with sus- 
tenance, it is a duty undertaken for payment ; it is 
subsidiary to the single object of teaching a definite 
amount of knowledge. It wants the requisites of affec- 
tion ; the numbers are too great, and the mutual con- 
cern too restricted : yet affection is not wholly ex- 
cluded ; in certain well-marked cases, it may play a 
part. 

On the other hand, the family and the school have 
some important agreements. They both deal with 
immature minds, for whom certain kinds of motives are 



I04 PLAY OF MOTIVES : — DISCIPLINE. 

unsuitable. Neither can employ motives that are ap- 
plicable only to grown men and women ; they cannot 
appeal to consequences in the distant and unknown 
future. Children do not realize a remote effect, and 
they fail even to conceive many things that will one day 
have great power over their conduct. To talk to them 
about riches, honours, and a good conscience is in vain. 
A half-holiday is more to them than the prospect of 
becoming head of a business. 

The position of immaturity is attended with another 
peculiarity, namely, that the reasons of a rule cannot 
always be made apparent. Sometimes they can, if not 
to the younger, at least to the older children. This is 
a highly prized aid to obedience in every department of 
government. 

There are many important points of agreement in 
the exercise of authority in every sphere — the family, 
the school, the relation of master and servant, of ruler 
and subject, whether in the state at large or in sub- 
ordinate societies. For example : — 

(i) Restraints should be as few as the situation 
admits of. 

(2) Duties and Offences should be definitely ex- 
pressed, so as to be clearly understood. This may not 
always be possible to the full extent ; but should be 
always aimed at. 

(3) Offences should be graduated according to their 
degree of heinousness. This too needs clearness of dis- 
crimination and definite language. 

(4) The application of Punishment is regulated 
according to certain principles, first clearly pointed out 
by Bentham. 



EXERCISE OF AUTHORITY. 10$ 

(5) Voluntary dispositions are to be trusted as far 
as they can go. 

(6) By organization and arrangement, the occasions 
of disorder are avoided. Quarrels are obviated by not 
permitting crowds, jostling, and collisions. Dishonesty 
is checked by want of opportunity ; remissness, by the 
watchful eye and by definite tests of performance. 

(7) The awe and influence of authority is main- 
tained by a certain formality and state. Forms and 
ritual are adapted to all the operations of law : persons 
in authority are clothed with dignity and inviolability. 
The greater the necessity of enforcing obedience, the 
more stern and imposing is the ritual of authority. 
The Romans, the greatest law-giving people, were the 
most stately in their official rites. A slight tinge of 
formality should accompany even the lowest forms of 
authority. 

(8) It is understood that authority, with all its appur- 
tenances, exists for the benefit of the governed, and not 
as a perquisite of the governor. 

(9) The operation of mere vindictiveness should be 
curtailed to the uttermost. 

(10) So far as circumstances allow, everyone in au- 
thority should assume a benign character, seeking the 
benefit of those under him, using instruction and moral 
suasion so as to stave off the necessity of force. The 
effect of this attitude is at its utmost when its limits 
are clearly discerned and never passed. 

(11) The reasons for repression and discipline 
should, as far as possible, be made intelligible to those 
concerned ; and should be referable solely to the general 
good- This involves, as a part of national education, a 



106 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — DISCIPLINE. 

knowledge of the structure of society, as being a regu- 
lated reciprocity among all its members, for the good of 
each and of all.' 

' Whoever occupies a position of authority ought to be familiar with the 
general principles and conditions of Punishment, as they may be found set 
forth in the Penal Code of Bentham. The broad, exhaustive view there 
given will co-operate beneficially with each one's actual experience. I 
make no apology for presenting a short summary of his principles. 

After precisely defining the proper ends of Punishment, Bentham marks 
the cases unmeet for Punishment. First, where it is groundless : that is, 
where there never has been any real mischief (the other party consenting to 
what has been done), or where the mischief is overweighed by a benefit of 
greater value. Second, where it is inejicacious : including cases where 
the penal provision has not come before the offender's notice, where he is 
unaware of the consequences of his act, or where he is not a free agent. 
Third, cases where it is unprofitable ; that is, when the evil of the punish- 
ment exceeds the evil of the offence. (The evils of Punishment, which 
have to be summed up and set against the good, are (i) coercion or re- 
straint, (2) the uneasiness of apprehension, (3) the actual suffering, (4) the 
suffering caused to all those that are in sympathy with the person punished. ) 
Fourth, cases where Punishment is needless : as when the end can be 
attained in some cheaper way, as by instruction and persuasion. In this 
class Bentham specially includes the offences that consist in disseminat- 
ing pernicious principles in politics, morality, or religion. These should 
be met by instruction and argument, and not by the penalties of the law. 

Under what he calls the expense or frugality of Punishment, Bentham 
urges the necessity of presenting to the mind an adequate notion of what a 
punishment really is. Hence the advantage of punishments that are easily 
learnt, and remembered, and that appear greater, and not less, than they 
really are. 

Next, as to the main point, the meastire of Punishment. First, it should 
be such as clearly to outweigh the profit of the offence : including not 
simply the immediate profit, but every advantage, real or apparent, that 
has weighed as an inducement to commit it. Second, the greater the 
mischief of the offence, the greater is the expense that it is worth while to 
be at, in the way of punishment. Third, when two offences come into 
competition, the punishment for the greater should be such as to make the 
less preferred ; thus robbery with violence to the person, is always punished 
more severely than simple robbery. Fourth, the punishment to be so 
adjusted that for every part of the resulting mischief a motive may be 
provided to restrain from causing it. Fifth, the punishment should not be 



PRINXIPLES OF PUNISHMENT. lO/ 

The points of comparison and of contrast between 
the school and the family have been noted. The more 

g) eater than is needed for these ends. Sixth, there should be taken into 
account the circumstances affecting the sensibility of the offenders, as age, 
sex, wealth, position, so that the same punishment may not operate un- 
equally. Seventh, the punishment needs to be increased in magnitude as 
it falls short of certainty. Eighth, it must be further increased in magni- 
tude as it falls short in point of proximity. Penalties that are uncertain, 
and those that are remote, correspondingly fail to influence the mind. 
Ninth, when the act indicates a habit, the punishment must be increased 
so as to outweigh the profit of the other offences that the offender may 
commit with impunity : this is severe, but necessary, as in putting down 
the coiners of base money. Tenth, when a punishment well fitted in its 
quality cannot exist in less than a certain quantity, it may be of use to 
employ it, although a little beyond the measure of the offence : such are 
the punishments of exile, expulsion from a society, dismissal from office. 
Eleventh, this may be the case more particularly, when the punishment is 
a moral lesson. Twelfth, in adjusting the quantum, account is to taken 
of the circumstances that render all punishment unprofitable. Thirteenth, 
if in cariying out these provisions anything occurs tending to do more 
harm than the good arising from the punishment, that thing should be 
omitted. 

In regard to the selection of punishments, Bentbam lays down a number 
of tests, or conditions whereby they are fitted to comply with the foregoing 
requirements. First, is the quality of variability : a punishment should 
have degrees of intensity and duration : this applies to fines, corporal 
punishment, and imprisonment ; also to censure, or ill-name. Second, 
equability, or equal application under all circumstances : this is not easy 
to secure ; a fixed fine is an unequable punishment. Third, comnten' 
surability : that is, punishments should be so adapted to offences, that the 
offender may clearly conceive the inequality of the suffering attached to 
crimes of different degrees of heinousness : this property can be grafted on 
the variable punishments, as imprisonment. Fourth, charaderislicalness : 
this is where something can be found in the punishment whose idea 
exactly fits the crime. Bentham dilates upon this topic, in order to 
discriminate it from the old crude method of an eye for an eye : cases in 
point occur abundantly both in the family and in the school. Fifth, 
exemplarity : this is connected with the impressiveness of a punishment ; 
all the solemnities accompanying the execution increase this effect. 
Bentham, however, did not sufficiently consider the evils attending too 
great publicity, which have led to withdrawing punishments from the gaze 



108 PLAY OF MOTIVES : — DISCIPLINE. 

special distinction of the school, as compared with rela- 
tions of authority in general, is resolvable into its main 
object, namely, Instruction, for which the condition 
that needs to be imposed is Attention and Application 
of mind, with a view to permanent impressions — intel- 
lectual and other. To evoke, charm, cajole, compel this 
attitude, is the first aim in all teaching. The hostile 
influences to be overcome are such as physical inability 
and exhaustion, irksomeness in the work, diversions and 
distractions from other tastes, with the natural rebel- 
liousness of human beings under authority. 

The arts of proceeding are not the same for a single 
pupil and for a class. For the single pupil, individu- 
ality may be studied and appealed to ; for the class, 
individualities are not considered. Here, the element of 
number is an essential feature ; carrying with it both 
obstructions and aids, and demanding a very special 
manipulation. 

It is in dealing with numbers that the teacher stands 
distinguished from the parent, and is allied to the wider 
authorities of the State ; exercising larger control, en- 

of the multitude ; it being now simply intimated that they have been carried 
out. Sixth, frugality : or making punishments less costly to the State ; 
as when prisoners are employed productively. Seventh, subserviency to 
reformation : by weakening the seductive, and strengthening the preserving 
motives ; as in giving habits of labour to the idle. Eighth, efficacy itt 
disablement : as in deposition from office. Ninth, subserviency to compen- 
sation : as by pecuniary inflictions. Tenth, popularity. Bentham lays 
much stress upon the popularity and unpopularity of punishments, whereby 
the public sympathy may work for or against the law : when a punishment 
is unpopular, juries are reluctant to convict, and public agitation is stirred 
for remission of sentence. Eleventh, simplicity of description : under this 
head, Bentham comments upon the obscure and unintelligible descriptions 
of the old law, as capital felony, pramunire. Twelfth, remissibility, in case 
of mistake. 



AIDS TO DISCIPLINE. IO9 

countering greater risks, and requiring a more steady 
hand. With an individual pupil, we need only such mo- 
tives as are personal to himself; with numbers, we are 
under the harsh necessity of punishing for example. 

Good physical surroundings are known to be half the 
battle. A spacious and airy building ; room for the 
classes to come together and to depart without confusion 
or collision : these are prime facilities and aids to dis- 
cipline. Next is organization, or method and orderly 
arrangement in all the movements ; whereby each pupil 
is always found in the proper place, and the entire mass 
is comprehended under the master's glance. To this 
follows the due alternation and remission of work, 
avoiding fatigue and maintaining the spirits and the 
energies while the teaching lasts. 

After the externals and arrangements, come the 
Methods and Arts of Teaching, considered as imparting 
lucidity- to the explanations, and as easing the necessary 
intellectual labour of comprehension. If to this prime 
quality can be added extraneous interest or charm, so 
much the better ; but it must not be at the expense of 
clearness, which is the first condition of getting through 
the subject. 

The personality of the teacher may be in favour of 
his influence : a likable exterior, a winning voice and 
manner, a friendly expression, when relaxing the stern- 
ness of authority. This is the side of allurement or 
attraction. The other side is the stately, imposing, and 
dignified bearing, by which the master can impersonate 
authority and be a standing reminder to the evil- 
disposed of the flock. It is seldom given to one man 
or woman to display both attitudes in their highest 



1 10 PLAY OF MOTIVES : — DISCIPLINE. 

force ; but wherever, and to whatever extent, they can 
be assumed, they constitute a barrier to disaffection and 
remissness. 

Any prominent displays of swagger and self-conceit 
operate against the teacher's influence, and incite efforts 
to take him down. It is possible to temper authority 
with an unassuming demeanour. 

Much of course depends upon tact ; meaning by that 
a lively and wakeful sense of everything that is going 
on. Disorder is the sure sequel of the teacher's failure 
in sight or in hearing ; but even with the senses good, 
there may be absent the watchful employment of them. 
This is itself a natural incapacity for the work of teach- 
ing ; just as an orator is sure to fail if he is slow to 
discern the signs of the effect that he produces on his 
audience. A teacher must not merely be sensitive to 
incipient and marked disorder ; he must read the result 
of his teaching in the pupils' eyes. 

That quietness of manner that comes not of feeble- 
ness, but of restraint and collectedness, passing easily 
into energy when required, is a valuable adjunct to 
discipline. To be fussy and flurried is to infect the 
class with the same qualities ; unfavourable alike to 
repression and to learning. 

Any mistake, miscarriage, or false step, on the part 
of a teacher, is for the moment fatal to his ascendancy. 
Such things will happen, and they render undue assump- 
tion all the more perilous. 

The stress of the teacher's difficulty lies in the 
heavings of a mass or multitude. The working of 
human beings collectively, is wholly distinct from their 
individual action ; a new set of forces and influences 



DEALING WITH NUMBERS III 

are generated. One man against a multitude is always 
in the post of danger. As units in a mass, every indi- 
vidual displays entirely new characters. The anti-social 
or malevolent passion — the delight in gaining a triumph 
— which is suppressed in the individual as against a 
more powerful individual, is re-ignited and inflamed in 
company with others. Whenever a simultaneous charge 
is possible the authority of a single person is as nought 
in the balance. 

It is often said that the teacher should get the col- 
lective opinion on his side — should, in short, create a 
good class-opinion. It is easier to deserve success in 
this than to command it. The fear is that, till the end 
of time, the sympathy of numbers will continue to 
manifest itself against authority in the school. There 
will be occasions when the infection of the mass is k 
stronghold of order ; as when the majority are bent on 
attending to the work, and are thwarted by a few dis- 
turbers of the peace ; or when they have a general 
sympathy with their teacher, and merely indulge them- 
selves in rare and exceptional outbursts. While a 
teacher's merits may gain for him this position of ad- 
vantage, more or less, he is never above the risks of an 
outbreak, and must be ready for the final resort of 
repression by discipline or penalties. He may still 
work by soothing applications, gentle and kindly re- 
monstrance : he may check the spread of disaffection 
by watchful tactics, and by showing that he has the 
ringleaders in his eye ; but in the end he must punish. 

It is this position of constant preparedness for 
disorder, sometimes in isolated individuals, and some- 
times in the mass, that demands an air and manner 



112 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — DISCIPLINE. 

betokening authority, and carrying with it a certain 
hauteur and distance ; the necessity for which is the 
stronger as the warring elements are more rife. 

The discipline of numbers is impeded by two sorts 
of pupils ; those that have no natural liking for the 
subject, and those that are too far behind to understand 
the teaching. In a perfectly- arranged school, both sorts 
would be excluded from a class. 

The foregoing considerations lead up to the final 
subject — Punishment ; in administering which, the prac- 
tice of Education, as well as of other kinds of govern- 
ment, has greatly improved. The general principles of 
punishment have been already announced. We have to 
consider their application to the school. But first a few 
words on the employment of Reward. 

Emidation — Prizes — Plaee-iaking. 

All these names point to the same fact and the same 
motive — the desire of surpassing others, of gaining dis- 
tinction ; a motive that has already been weighed. It 
is the most powerful known stimulant to intellectual 
application ; and where it is in full operation, nothing 
else is needed. Its defects are — (i) it is an anti-social 
principle ; {2) it is apt to be too energetic ; (3) it is 
limited to a small number; (4) it makes a merit of 
superior natural gifts. 

It is a fact' that the human intellect has at all times 
been spurred to its highest exertions by rivalry, con- 
test, and the ambition of being first. The question is, 
whether a more moderate pitch of excellence, such as 
befits average faculties, could not be attained without 



INFLUENCE OF PRIZES. II3 

that stimulant. If so, there would be a clear moral 
gain. Be this as it may, there is no need to bring it 
forward prematurely, or to press its application at the 
beginning. In the infant stage, where the endeavour is 
to draw out the amicable sentiments, it is better kept 
back. For tasks that are easy and interesting, it is 
unnecessary. The pupils that possess unusual aptitude, 
should be incited to modesty rather than to assumption. 

The greater prizes and distinctions affect only a 
very small number. Place-capturing, as Bentham phrases 
it, affects all more or less, although, in the lower end of 
a class, position is of small consequence. Too often the 
attainments near the bottom are ;///. A few contesting 
eagerly for being first, and the mass phlegmatic, is not 
a healthy class. 

Prizes may be valuable in themselves, and also a 
token of superiority. Small gifts by parents are useful 
incitements to lessons ; the school contains prizes for 
distinction that only a small number can reach. The 
schoolmaster's means of reward is chiefly confined to 
approbation, or praise, a great and flexible instrument, 
yet needing delicate manipulation. Some kinds of 
merit are so palpable as to be described by numerical 
marks. Equal, in point of distinctness, is the fact that 
a thing is right or wrong, in part or in whole ; it is 
sufficient approbation to pronounce that a question is 
correctly answered, a passage properly explained. This 
is the praise that envy cannot assail. Most unsafe are 
phrases of commendation ; much care is required to 
make them both discriminating and just. They need 
to have a palpable basis in facts. Distinguished merit 
should not always be attended with paeans ; silent recog- 



114 PI^AY OF MOTIVES: — EMULATION. 

nition is the rule, the exceptions must be such as to ex- 
tort admiration from the most jealous. The controlling 
circumstance is the presence of the collective body ; 
the teacher is not speaking for himself alone, but direct- 
ing the sentiments of a multitude, with which he should 
never be at variance ; his strictly private judgments 
should be privately conveyed. Bentham's ' Scholar- 
Jury Principle,' although not formally recognized in 
modern methods, is always tacitly at work. The opinion 
of the school, when at its utmost efficiency, is the united 
judgment of the head and the members, the master and 
the mass. Any other state of things is war : although 
this too may be unavoidable. 

Punishment. 

The first and readiest, and ever the best, form of 
Punishment is Censure, Reprobation, Dispraise, to which 
are applicable all the maxims above laid down for praise. 
Definite descriptions of definite failures, without note 
or comment, are a power to punish. When there are 
aggravations, such as downright carelessness, a damaging 
commentary may be added ; but in using terms of re- 
probation, still more strict regard has to be paid to 
discrimination and justice. The degrees of badness 
are sometimes numerical — measured by the quantity of 
lesson missed, and the repetition of the failure : this very 
definiteness literally stated is more cutting than epithets. 

Strong terms of reproof should be sparing, in order 
to be more effective. Still more sparing ought to be 
tones of anger. Loss of temper, however excusable, is 
really a victory to wrongdoers ; although for the moment 



DISGRACE.— DETENTION. II5 

it may strike terror. Unless a man is of fiendish nature 
throughout, he cannot maintain a consistent course, if he 
gives way to temper. Indignation under control is a 
mighty weapon. Yet it is mere impotence to utter 
threats when the power of execution is known to be 
wanting. There is nothing worse for authority than to 
over-vaunt itself; this is the fatal step to the ridiculous. 

Punishments must go deeper than words ; indeed, the 
efficacy of blame depends on something else to follow. 
Bearing in mind what are the evil tendencies to be en- 
countered in school discipline — want of application being 
the most constant — we may review the different kinds 
of penalties that have been placed at the disposal of the 
schoolmaster. The occasional aggravation of disorder 
and rebellion has also to be encountered, but with an 
eye to the main requisite. 

Simple forms of Disgrace have been invented, in the 
shape of shameful positions, and humiliating isolation. 
As appealing to the sense of shame, these are powerful 
with many, but not with all ; their power varies with the 
view taken of them by the collective body, as well as 
with individual sensitiveness. They answer for smaller 
offences, but not for the greatest ; they may do to begin 
with, but they rapidly lose power by repetition. It is a 
rule in punishment to try slight penalties at first : with 
the better natures, the mere idea of punishment is 
enough ; severity is entirely unnecessary. It is a coarse 
and blundering system that knows of nothing but the 
severe and degrading sorts. 

Detention from play, or keeping in after hours, is 
very galling to the young ; and it ought to suffice for 
even serious offences ; especially for riotous and unruly 



Il6 PLAY OF MOTIVES: — PUNISHMENT. 

tendencies, for which it has all the merits of * character- 
isticalness.' The excess of activity and aggressiveness 
is met by withholding the ordinary legitimate outlets. 

Tasks or impositions are the usual punishment of 
neglect of lessons, and are also employed for rebellious- 
ness ; the pain lies in the intellectual ennui, which is 
severe to those that have no liking for books in any 
shape. They also possess the irksomeness of confine- 
ment and fatigue-drill. They may be superadded to 
shame, and the combination is a formidable penalty. 

With all these various resources ingeniously plied — 
Emulation, Praise, Censure, Forms of Disgrace, Confine- 
ment, Impositions — the necessity for Corporal Punish- 
ments should be nearly done away with. In any well- 
regulated school, where all the motives are carefully 
graded, through a long series of increasing privations 
and penalties, there should be no cases but are suffi- 
ciently met. The presence of pupils that are not amen- 
able to such means is a discord and an anomaly ; and 
the direct remedy would consist in removing them to 
some place where the lower natures are grouped together. 
Inequality of moral tone is as much to be deprecated in 
a class as inequality of intellectual advancement. There 
should be Reformatories, or special institutions, for those 
that cannot be governed like the majority. 

Where corporal punishment is kept up, it should be 
at the far end of the list of penalties ; its slightest ap- 
plication should be accounted the worst disgrace, and 
should be accompanied with stigmatizing forms. It 
should be regarded as a deep injury to the person that 
inflicts it, and to those that have to witness it — as the 
height of shame and infamy. It ought not to be re- 



CORPORAL PUNISHMENT. 11/ 

peated with the same pupil : if two or three appHcations 
are not enough, removal is the proper course. 

The misfortune is that in the National Schools the 
worst and most neglected natures have to be introduced : 
yet they should not brutalize a whole school. Even 
when children are habituated to blows at home, it does 
not follow that these are necessary at school ; parents 
are often unskilful, as well as hampered in their circum- 
stances, and emergencies are pressing ; the treatment 
at school may easily rise above the conduct of the family. 
In many instances the school will be a welcome haven 
to the children of troubled homes ; and lead to the 
generous response of good behaviour. 

In point of fact, however, the children of wretched- 
ness are not always those that give trouble, nor is it the 
schools where these are found that are most given to 
corporal punishments. The schoolmaster's most way- 
ward subjects come often from good families ; and they 
are found in schools of the highest grade. There should 
be no difficulty in sending away from superior schools 
all such as could not be disciplined without the degrada- 
tion of flogging.' 

' Testimonies are adduced from very distinguished men, to the effect 
that without flogging they would have done nothing. Melanchthon, John- 
son, Goldsmith, are all quoted for a sentiment of this kind. We must, 
however, interpret the fact on a wider basis. There was no intermediate 
course in those days between spoiling and corporal punishment : he 
that spared the rod hated the child. Many ways can now be found of 
spurring young and capable minds to application ; and corporal punishment 
would take an inferior position in the mere point of efficiency. 

It is not to be held that corporal punishment, to such extent as is 
permissible, is the severest form of punishment that may be administered 
in connexion with the school. For mere pain, a whipping would often be 
chosen in preference to the intolerable irksomeness of confinement during 



Il8 PLAY OF MOTIVES :— CONSEQUENCES. 

TJie Discipline of Consequences. 

The idea of Rousseau that children, instead of being 
punished, should be left to the natural consequences of 
their disobedience, has much plausibility, and is taken 
up at the present day by educationists. Mr. Spencer 
has dwelt upon it with great emphasis. 

One obvious limitation to the principle is, that the 
results may be too serious to be used for discipline : 
children have to be protected from the consequences of 
many of their acts. 

What is intended is, to free parents and others from 
the odium of being the authors of pain, and to throw 
this upon impersonal agencies, towards which the child 
can entertain no resentment. But before counting on 
that result, two things are to be weighed. First, the 
child may soon be able to see through the device, and 
to be aware that after all the pain is brought about by 
virtue of a well-laid scheme for the purpose ; as when 
the unpunctual child is left behind. Next, the personi- 
fying or anthropomorphic tendency being at its greatest 
in early years, every natural evil is laid at the door of 
3.persoft — known or unknown. The habit of looking at 
the laws of nature in their crushing application, as cold, 
passionless, purposeless, is a very late and difficult ac- 
quirement, one of the triumphs of science or philosophy : 
we begin by resenting everything that does us harm, 
and are but too ready to look round for an actual person 
to bear the brunt of our wrath. 

play or after hours, and of impositions in the way of drill tasks ; while the 
language of censure may be so cutting as to be far worse than blows. 
What is maintained is, that these other punishments are not so liable to 
abuse, nor so brutalizing to all concerned as bodily inflictions. 



NATURAL CONSEQUENCES. I I9 

A further difficulty is the want of foresight and fore- 
knowledge in children : they are unable to realize con- 
sequences when the evil impulse is upon them. This, of 
course, decreases by time ; and according as the sense 
of consequences is strengthened, these become more 
adequate as a check to misconduct. It is then indiffe- 
rent whether they are natural or ordained. 

Among the natural consequences that are relied on 
as correctives of misbehaviour in the family, are such as 
these : going with shabby clothes, from having spoilt a 
new suit ; getting no new toys to replace those that are 
destroyed. The case of one child having to make re- 
paration to another for things destroyed, is more an 
example of Bentham's ' characteristical ' punishment. 

In school, the discipline of consequences comes in 
under the arrangements for assigning each one's merit 
on an impersonal plan ; the temper or disposition of the 
master being nowhere apparent. The regulations being 
fixed and understood, non-compliance punishes itself. 



CHAPTER IV. 

TERMS EXPLAINED. 

In discussing Education-questions, there occur certain 
terms and phrases that suspend great issues, and yet are 
of ambiguous import. Some of these refer to faculties 
of the mind, as Memory, Judgment, and Imagination, 
whose scope needs to be clearly comprehended. Of 
equal importance is it to fix the meanings to be attached 
to the words — Training, Culture, Discipline — when op- 
posed to what is expressed by Information, 

MEMORY, AND ITS CULTIVATION. 

Committing to Memory ' is a phrase for learning or 
acquiring those parts of knowledge that are imbibed 
without apparently exercising the higher faculties called 
Reason and Judgment. Such are — names, word lists, 
in grammar, and in language generally. Likewise the 
events that we have witnessed impress themselves on our 
memory, by the mere fact of their having excited our 
attention. Again, a great part of the early education 
of children consists in acquiring the fixed arrangements 
of things that make up their habitual environment. 
Also, the simpler sequences of cause and effect are laid 
hold of at first by a mere act of memory. 



MEMORY A LIMITED QUANTITY. 121 

In order that such acquisitions may proceed rapidly, 
certain conditions must be fulfilled, formerly described 
as the conditions of Retentiveness or Memory. The 
providing for these conditions is sometimes spoken of 
as exercising the Memory, or cultivating the Memory. 
Now the question is started — Can we by any artifices 
cultivate or strengthen the Memory, or the power of 
Retentiveness as a whole ? We may acquire know- 
ledge. Granted. Can we strengthen or increase the 
natural powers of acquisition .'' It is, no doubt, said 
with justice that every faculty can be strengthened by 
exercise ; nevertheless, as regards mental power, the 
effect is by no means simple. 

The absolute power of Retentiveness in any indi- 
vidual mind, is a limited quantity. There is no way of 
extending this limit except by encroaching on some of 
the other powers of the mind, or else by quickening the 
mental faculties altogether, at the expense of the bodily 
functions. An unnatural memory may be produced at 
the cost of reason, judgment, and imagination, or at the 
cost of the emotional aptitudes. This is not a desirable 
result. 

The more common form of exalted memory is the 
memory for a special subject, which grows by devo- 
tion to that subject ; being a result of the habits of 
attention that are engendered towards our leading 
studies. It is by this artificial strain, that an orator 
commits his speeches to memory with comparative ease. 
The memory for places is intensified by habitual atten- 
tion, the consequence of our special avocations ; an 
engineer or an artist remembers places, not by superior 
general memory, nor even by particular memory, but by 



122 TERMS EXPLAINED :— JUDGMENT. 

the strain and preference of attention, accompanied by 
neglect of other matters. * 

Instead, therefore, of speaking of the cultivation of 
the faculty of Memory, we should simply consider the 
means of fostering some definite class of acquisitions 
according to the established laws of Retentiveness. 



JUDGMENT, AND ITS CULTIVATION. 

This is a word employed as a contrast to Memory, 
and as a synonym for Understanding and Reason. A 
teacher is expected to cultivate in pupils not only 
Memory, but also Judgment. 

The simplest supposable act of Judging is the com- 
paring of two things, as to their differences, or their 
agreements, or both. If they are obj'ects of sense, as 
two shades of colour, it is mere sense discrimination, and 
depends upon the delicacy of the sense of sight, the 
amount of attention bestowed, and the close juxtaposi- 
tion of the specimens. The very same conditions favour 
the discerning of agreements. 

When the two things to be compared are complex 
objects of sense, as two machines, two houses, two trees, 
two animals, there are more points to be attended to, 
but the operation is otherwise the same. When the 
objects are given, partly by sense appearances, and 
partly by verbal description of experimental properties, 
as two minerals, the grasp required is still greater, and 
the precautions are more specific. It takes an effort to 
view the complex whole in the advantageous attitude 
for comparison ; that is, by conceiving the properties of 
each in the same order. This kind of effort is the result 



EXERCISES OF JUDGMENT. 1 23 

of a mental discipline. The comparison of two cases in 
law, of two theories in science,- of the two different ways 
of expressing the same doctrine, or explaining the same 
fact, is a species of judgment, and is favoured by orderly 
placing of the several circumstances and peculiarities. 

Still higher is the act of judging something present 
to the view by a mental standard of comparison, the 
result of previous knowledge and experience ; as when 
we judge of the propriety or suitability of a work of in- 
dustry, or of art, or a scheme of policy. Here we have 
a wide field of comparison ; we have to view the col- 
lateral facts, and to follow out consequences. There 
are other and better ways of describing this mental act 
than calling it a judgment ; it is the application of far- 
reaching knowledge to determine cause and effect. This 
cannot be cultivated as a faculty ; it is a vast accom- 
plishment, the result of prolonged experience and studies 
in a particular department. 

Related to the foregoing is the giving of a sound de- 
cision in conflicting circumstances ; the taking all parts 
of a case into the account, instead of running off upon one 
or two points. The man that views a problem thoroughly 
and exhaustively, omitting nothing that belongs to its 
solution, is called a man of judgment ; but there is 
equal impropriety in styling this a faculty, and in speak- 
ing of improving it as such. 

These are very high instances of the Judging faculty, 
being nothing short of the utmost maturity of the human 
understanding, in particular departments of affairs. It is 
out of the province of the schoolmaster to speak of this 
kind of judgment. There is a more familiar, but loose 
application of the word, brought out by the contrast with 



124 TERMS EXPLAINED: — IMAGINATION. 

Memory ; the power of comprehending as opposed to 
the power of remembering by rote. This is a real and 
important distinction, better expressed by Understand 
ing, or Comprehension, than by judgment. It often 
occurs to us in teaching to have to test a pupil's under- 
standing of a passage, a principle, or a rule, that has 
been committed to memory. 

Reason, Reasoning, and givmg Reasons are intellectual 
operations not far removed from some of the meanings 
of Judgment. They are much more definite and precise, 
in consequence of their use in Logic ; by reference to 
which they can be learned, better than in any other 
way. 

IMAGINATION. 

A wide word. It covers operations very various 
in kind, and its employment is calculated to obscure 
some of the most critical processes in education. It 
has in some 5f its meanings a very lofty function ; in 
others, it expresses the utter degradation of the human 
powers. 

' Without imagination,' says Godwin, ' there can be 
no genuine ardour in any pursuit, or for any acquisition, 
and without imagination there can be no genuine mo- 
rality, no profound feeling of other men's sorrows, no 
ardent and persevering anxiety for their interests.' This 
definition trespasses upon a number of distinct mental 
powers, including all that is comprised in the name 
' Sympathy.' 

The first meaning of Imagination is expressed also 
by Conception, or the Conceiving Faculty, whereby we 
realize a picture of what we have not seen ; the usual 



CONCEIVING FACULTY. 12$ 

medium of presentation being language, with or without 
the aid of pictorial sketches. This is a power that grows 
with our experience of scenes and situations, and depends 
on the goodness of the pictorial memory. Excepting 
by increase of knowledge, there is scarcely any existing 
provision for cultivating or for augmenting the power ; 
the schoolmaster could do little for it, if he were to try. 
A learner may be exercised in conceiving things from 
descriptions ; but the real art involved in the case is the 
art of description itself 

To enter into or conceive other people's feelings is an 
exercise in Sympathy or Moral Education, and is also a 
means to our enjoyment of history, poetry, and romance. 
It is one of the consequences of our life experience, our 
social dispositions, and our acquired knowledge, but 
is not easily brought under school lessons. Like moral 
teaching generally, it may be quickened by an apt 
teacher in some happy moment, but cannot, so far as I 
am aware, be made to recur upon a pre-arranged plan. 

There is the same error in speaking of Conception, 
as a faculty to be trained, that was already remarked upon 
under Memory. The pupil may be assisted to conceive 
certain things, as a ship of war, a tropical forest, or a 
paradise ; the instrumentality being language well em- 
ployed, together with sketches or pictorial designs. But 
this is not cultivating a faculty of conceiving, further than 
that one successful effort facilitates others of a like kind. 
As a systematic practice, it is not embodied in any form 
of teaching at present in use : although incidental to 
many of our school exercises, it is not steadily followed 
out in any. 

The highest meaning of Imagination is the creative 



126 TERMS EXPLAINED :— IMAGINATION, 

faculty of the poet or the artist, which passes entirely out 
of the reach of express training, although all the ways of 
storing the mind may contribute to it. It is excluded 
from schemes of Education as too high for the school. 
But it contains an element in common with the lowest 
and easiest efforts of Imagination — the element of Feel- 
ing, or Emotion, which distinguishes Art constructions 
from the creations of the man of science. Every work 
of art gratifies some of our strong emotions — Love, 
Anger, Revenge, Sublimity, the Ridiculous, and many 
others. A scientific invention is a matter of mere 
utility, as measured by pounds, shillings, and pence. 

In the following out of this emotional gratification, 
the imaginative artist takes great liberties with his sub- 
ject ; he exaggerates, re-arranges, admits fiction and 
extravagance, and is nowise bounded by reality or truth. 
This is what makes the charm of imaginative literature, 
to the young especially. Far more powerful emotions 
may be roused by romance than by anything in the 
actual world of events ; and it is these higher effects that 
we covet. This, however, is not so properly cultivating 
Imagination as revelling in it ; extracting emotional ex- 
citement by means of it. Indulging imagination is in- 
dulging the emotions, and the only question is — which 
emotions ? 

This kind of Imagination is to be viewed, in the first 
instance, as a source of pleasure, an ingredient in the 
satisfaction of life. In addition to our enjoyments gained 
from contact with realities, we crave for the contribution 
that comes from ideality. Now, ideality is a different 
thing for dififer^nt ages : fairy-tales and extravagances 
for the young ; the poetry of Milton for the old. There 



EMOTIONAL BASIS. 12/ 

is nothing educative, in the first instance ; we are not 
aiming at instruction, but drinking in emotion. The 
gratifying of children with the hterature of imagination 
is a matter for the parent, as much as giving them 
country walks or holiday treats. It has a good side and 
a defective side , the balance is struck, in any adequate 
discussion of the uses and abuses of ' Fiction ' as a 
whole. 

While the basis of imaginative interest is the stimulus 
given to emotion, there is a certain intellectual element, 
in the pictures, scenes, and incidents that strike out 
emotional sparks. These are impressed on the memory 
through the excitement that they cause ; they become 
a part of the intellectual furniture, and may be after- 
wards turned to account. They may assist in imagina- 
tive creations of bur own, and be used as illustrating and 
adorning the sober truths of reason. When we come to 
fictions of a lofty order, as the works of the great poets, 
we store up still more exquisite pictorial combinations ; 
we imbibe into our recollections the highest strokes of 
human genius. Here, then, fiction is an element in our 
education. How far it should be given in the school is 
a question for future consideration. 

It is apparent, however, that the conceptive faculty, 
previously spoken of, is aided by the presence of strong 
emotion ; but if aided, it is also limited and biassed. 
The conception is taken in, just as it suits the feeling, 
and no further. The conception of a battle-scene is a 
great eftbrt of mental constructiveness ; but it is never 
complete. The portions that excite the most intense 
interest are conceived with some tolerable vividness ; we 
pick and choose the most sensational turns of the action ; 



128 TERMS EXPLAINED : — IMAGINATION. 

but of the general arrangements we carry away only the 
feeblest notion. 

The intervention of the schoolmaster in the culture 
of imagination ought to repress the extravagant emotional 
preferences, and favour the complete and impartial ex- 
ercise of that really great function of intellect — the power 
of conceiving, in all the exact lineaments and propor- 
tions, scenes and events that have not been experienced 
— the historical imagination, as distinguished from the 
poetical. Without rejecting the aid of emotional inte- 
rest, an instructor endeavours to counterwork its bias 
and partiality, not to speak of its distortion and falsifi- 
cation of reality. The power of full concrete realization 
is a high effort of mind, rarely attained even by the 
educated : it is a talent in itself ; and the snatches of 
fairyland engrained by the emotions of the marvellous 
are but the faintest approaches to such a power. 

PROCEEDING FROM THE KNOWN TO THE UNKNOWN. 

This is a favourite maxim of the teaching art, but it 
is seldom set forth in a way to afford definite guidance. 
There is a plain enough meaning in easy cases : an ex- 
planation should consist of references to facts already 
understood, otherwise it cannot itself be understood. 
This is merely the law of progress from the elementary 
to the composite ; to master one stage of advancement 
before proceeding to the next. Anyone that consciously 
violates such a plain requirement is hopeless ; and he 
that could lay his hand on his heart and say that he 
never once violated it, would merit immortal remem- 
brance. 



CONSECUTIVE ARRANGEMENT. 1 29 

If a demonstration proceeds upon principles not al- 
ready understood ; if a description contains terms with 
no meaning to the person addressed ; if directions in- 
volve acts that have not been previously performed, the 
upshot is a failure. In the stage where instruction is 
given in the strict methodical form, as in a regular 
course of science, the consecutive arrangement is more 
or less adhered to, yet often not without difficulty. In 
the previous stages, where knowledge is given by 
snatches, there is no security for the right order. In fact, 
the most immature minds are exposed to the greatest 
jumbles ; and one may wonder how they can imbibe 
information so supplied. The course may be inevitable, 
but it is not advantageous ; and it will be necessary, in 
a subsequent chapter, to consider fully why the necessity 
arises, and how its bad effects may be mitigated. 

In speech we can but bring forward one thing at a 
time ; our facts and statements follow a serial order. 
Now, for the comprehension of a difficult subject, it 
would sometimes be desirable that two or three things 
should come abreast, and be simultaneously conceived. 
This is one obstacle that the pupil has to overcome. 
Another evil is, that our clearest and most elementary 
statement may unavoidably introduce matter that has 
not previously been comprehended, and so leave a blur or 
dark spot, obscuring all that follows, until such time as 
we come across something that lightens the darkness. 

ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. 

These words are freely made use of in laying down 
directions for the guidance of the teacher. The mean- 
ings usually assigned to them are very hazy. * Analysis ' 



130 TERMS EXPLAINED :— ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. 

is the more distinct of the two ; there being certain 
specific and well-known examples, as, ' the Analysis of 
the Sentence,' in grammar. Analysis applied to read- 
ing-lessons is not quite so obvious ; the meaning sug- 
gested is that a complex object is viewed in its separate 
.parts. Thus, a steam-engine could be analyzed into 
the cylinder, the parallel motion, the fly-wheel, the 
governor balls, and so on. This, however, does not 
need such a high-sounding name. ' Description ' would 
suit quite as well. 

The most scientific meaning of Analysis is that 
connected with the process of Abstraction. A concrete 
substance, as a mineral, or a plant, is analyzed into 
its constituent properties, by successive abstractions, 
whereby each in its turn ie viewed apart. Such is the 
Natural History description of a mineral — the enume- 
ration of its properties, mathematical, physical, and 
chemical. For this use the word is somewhat super- 
fluous, and therefore misleading. 

There is another form of Analysis, in the separation 
of a complex effect into its constituent effects, as in the 
revolution of the motion of a planet into the two ten- 
dencies centripetal and centrifugal. In the same sense, 
we may speak of analyzing a man's character or motives. 
So we may analyze a political situation, by assigning all 
the influences at work. 

These meanings are all distinct enough, but they are 
not all in want of this special name, being otherwise 
provided for. Except in the well-understood instance 
of Grammatical Analysis, and in the last-mentioned case 
of composition of forces or agents, we should be much 
better without the word. Chemical Analysis and 



SYNTHESIS AN ABSTRUSE NOTION. 131 

Geometrical Analysis are peculiar cases that need not 
be discussed. 

More trouble is given by the word ' Synthesis,' al- 
though it ought to be in all respects the opposite or 
obverse of Analysis. There is a Grammatical Syn- 
thesis, worked out by Mr. Dalgleish into an exercise in 
grammar, in which the members of a sentence in separa- 
tion are to be put in their places again. In the resolv- 
ing of a complex object into its parts, with a view to 
orderly delineation, as a machine, there is no correspond- 
ing synthesis : the word has no meaning. 

The abstractive separation of properties does not 
need any synthesis. When abstraction prepares us for 
making an inductive generalization, like the Law of 
Gravity, there is a counter process of deductive carrying 
out of the law to new cases, and this may be called 
synthesis; but 'deduction' is a better word. 

When we analyze the forces at work in an operation 
— physical, mental, or social — we do not need to com- 
pound them again, unless we were supposing new situa- 
tions, where the composition is differently made up. 
We could chalk out the orbit of a planet whose solar 
distance and other elements were different from the 
case of any known planet. 

To express the conduct of any school-lesson, under 
either of the terms Analysis and Synthesis, is to produce 
the utmost confusion in the mind of a young teacher : 
as everything that the words cover is conveyed by other 
names, more expressive and more intelligible ; such are 
Description, Explanation, Abstraction, Induction, De- 
duction. 



132 TERMS EXPLAINED: — OBJECT LESSONS. 

OBJECT LESSONS. 

Considerable ambiguity attaches to the phrase ' Ob- 
ject Teaching.' It seems to have come into use through 
Pestalozzi's system of imparting the abstractions of 
Number, &c., by concrete examples. This is a per- 
fectly intelligible meaning, and lies also at the founda- 
tion of all teaching of general knowledge. In the 
carrying out of the system, the teacher brings forward 
such a selection of concrete objects as concur in some 
one general impression, notwithstanding great differences 
in other respects. To impress the number ' four,* a 
great many groups of four would be presented to the 
pupil ; to impress the notion of a circle, many round 
objects would be adduced, differing in size, material, 
and other points. 

The Object Lesson represents a totally different line 
of tuition, when it is looked upon as cultivating the 
senses or maturing the observing faculties. The former 
case related to generalities, this refers to specialities. 
When a pupil is set to discriminate nice shades of colour, 
or differences of musical tone, it is by presenting these to 
the senses and inciting the attention upon them. How 
far this is' requisite in ordinary school education, is a 
doubtful matter. When a special art is taught, as 
paiating or music, the delicate discrimination of degrees 
of colour or tones is a part of the teaching ; but with a 
view to knowledge of the world, the same special train- 
ing may not be necessary, except on set occasions or for 
select purposes. It is no part of the highest knowledge 
of things in general to possess a delicate tact in mea- 
suring lengths by the eye or weights by the hand. 



OBJECT LESSONS IN LANGUAGE. 1 33 

At all events, this special acquirement does not need 
the designation * Object Lessons ' to set it forth. The 
* cultivation of the senses ' is a more suitable mode of 
describing it ; and such cultivation is a very intelligible 
form of training, if we only satisfy ourselves that it is 
required. 

A third aspect of the Object Lesson has reference 
to the acquisition of Language, which, in the first 
instance, is the associating of things with their names. 
In order to connect a word with a thing, we must have 
some notion of the thing ; by sense, observation, or in 
whatever way it comes before us. The names first learnt 
are the names of familiar surrounding objects, for the 
most part individual and concrete. Attention is directed 
upon the objects, and the names are pronounced, and 
there is a speedy union of the two in an act of associa- 
tion or memory. To extend the knowledge of language 
is to extend the knowledge of objects ; and, according as 
we have opportunity of bringing forward new objects 
and of getting them attended to, we enlarge the intelli- 
gent use of language, with which goes hand in hand a 
knowledge of the world, at least so far as concerns the 
characteristic properties of things. To use names pro- 
perly we must not confound things that differ ; we must 
know enough for discrimination, although we may not 
know everything. The dog must not be mistaken for 
the cat, nor the lamp confounded with the fire. 

It does not seem, at first sight, as if the lessons of 
the schoolmaster could contribute much to this species 
of object knowledge. It grows out of the whole ex- 
perience of the waking life. 

Moreover, Object Knowledge is scarcely the proper 



r 



134 TERMS EXPLAINED: — OBJECT LESSONS. 

designation for this case either. Many of the things 
noted, and especially the earliest, are the individual things 
about us ; but to mark these is only a first stage, and 
is followed up by a grander operation. General names 
soon come to be used and understood by every child. 
No doubt these correspond, at first, to very easy gene- 
ralities — light, dark, big, little, chair, spoon, doll, man, 
water, and so on ; nevertheless, they have to be under- 
stood, not by looking at one thing, but by comparing 
different things, attending to agreements and abstract- 
ing differences. 

Again, it has been pointed out, that many terms 
express situations of things rather than things them- 
selves. Such are all the names for time, and place, and 
circumstances. Yesterday, to-morrow, are not objects ; 
out of doors, in the house, are situations. Actions, in 
like manner, involve a distinct mode of looking at the 
world; 'drink,' 'stand,' 'come,' 'speak,' 'cry,' 'bring,' 
are intelligible to the youngest child, from observing 
a whole configuration or group of appearances. 

Onc^e more, what shall we say to subject states, 
which come early to the foreground, along with the 
things of the outer world ? The elementary states of 
being pleased and pained, of liking and disliking, are 
noted by the infant experience, and come to be matters 
of mutual understanding at a very early stage. 

Thus, in the learning of language, there are various 
well-marked operations that ought to be viewed by 
themselves, as they enter into the economy of teaching, 
and that ought to be described in appropriate terms, 
and not by the very ambiguous and misleading phrase 
— Object Lessons. 



OBJECT TEXTS. 1 35 

Another meaning remains. I allude to the practice 
of giving exhaustive lessons, on selected objects, in the 
course of the ordinary teaching. Thus, to take a piece 
of Coal. A specimen is produced, and attention is 
called to its appearance and various sensible properties ; 
by which the pupil is, perhaps, made to inspect it more 
narrowly and curiously than before. Thus far, we 
might call it a Sense, or Observation, lesson. But the 
master does not stop here : he goes minutely into the 
Natural History and Chemistry of Coal; describing 
where it comes from, how it is first produced, what 
uses it serves, and by virtue of what properties it serves 
these uses. This may be called an Information lesson 
on an object. A chosen substance is made the text for 
a dissertation on natural processes and properties that 
implicate many other substances. We cannot give the 
history of coal without adverting to the Structure of 
Plants ; nor can we assign its uses without bringing in 
Chemical Union and Heat. The propriety of this kind 
of lesson depends on various circumstances ; and the 
consideration of these will come up again. It is not so 
much an object lesson, as the employment of an Object 
Text, It enables us to group a mass of very abstract 
notions and properties round a concrete unit. It is a 
convenient form of the popular lecture, as when we see 
Professor Huxley or Dr. Carpenter adopting, as a topic 
of discourse, a piece of Chalk. 

INFORMATION AND TRAINING. 
The contrast between Information, on the one hand, 
and Training, Discipline, calling out the Powers or 
Faculties, on the other, is one that plays a great part 



136 TERMS EXPLAINED: — INFORMATION. 

in discussions relative to education. It is expedient to 
clear up this distinction in the only way that it can be 
done, namely, by examples of the two effects. The 
allegation is often made, that there are kinds of instruc- 
tion of little value as information, but of such supreme 
efficacy as discipline, that they are to be preferred to 
any species of information that is nothing beyond in- 
formation. The object of education, it is said, is not to 
instil truths, but to draw out and exercise the mind's 
faculties and forces. 

First, as to Information. The Arithmetical opera- 
tions of adding, multiplying, &c., taught for the purposes 
of practice, without any reference to their foundations or 
principles, would probably be regarded as useful infor- 
mation, but not as discipline. This is, in fact, the way 
that they are apprehended by the great majority of 
pupils. 

Again, in regard to our own language. All the 
usages of the language, including the highest rules of 
correctness and propriety, may be imparted merely as 
guidance in speaking and writing with exactness ; there 
being no attempt to cast them into a methodical shape 
or to reduce them under rational explanations. This 
would be pure information ; the teaching of language, so 
conducted, would be very useful, but would not be called 
a mental discipline. Those persons that all their life 
have been associated with only such as speak correctly 
and elegantly, become correct and good speakers with- 
out any training at all. A foreign language might be 
imparted in the same way ; even the dead languages 
could be taught without grammars or rules ; that is to 
say, by mere habituation in reading books. 



FACTS CONSTITUTING INFORMATION. I37^ 

Historical facts are for the most part nothing more 
than information. They must follow the order of time, 
but this constraint does not amount to a mental disci- 
pline. Chronology informs us of the sequence of the 
greater events of History ; it is laid up in the memory 
as so much information, and does not aspire to draw 
forth or cultivate any faculty ; it is merely one of many 
ways of calling memory into use. 

Geographical facts may be simply matter of infor- 
mation. In so far as they are devoid of connection and 
system, they are information solely. In so far as they 
can be embodied in an orderly scheme — a descriptive 
method, which facilitates both the recollection and the 
understanding of them, they rise to some sort of train- 
ing. They require the pupils to master the scheme, and 
so give them possession of it, as an art that they may 
themselves employ in dealing with similar details. 

All those facts that relate to useful operations in the 
arts of life, that serve to guide artificers in their work, 
and to instruct everyone how to attain desirable ends, 
constitute a vast body of useful information. The 
recipes of cookery, the arts of husbandry and of manu- 
facture, the cures of disease, the procedure in courts of 
law, are most valuable as information; but they are not 
regarded as giving us any form of discipline. Our books 
of household management, of horticulture, and of the 
rearing of animals, are full of the best possible informa- 
tion, but nothing more. 

Even in the Sciences, properly so called, there may 
be matter that a pupil imbibes merely as so much 
information. The practical conclusions from scientific 
principles may be seized and turned to account, while 



138 TERMS EXPLAINED : — INFORMATION. 

the demonstrations, deductions, and proofs are wholly 
missed, as already mentioned in regard to Arithmetic. 
Even in geometry a student may carry away with him 
the theorems, as so many truths applicable to practice, 
without understanding their dependence upon each 
other ; in other words, without knowing geometry as a 
science. So we may have a large stock of physical, 
chemical, and physiological facts, and may be quite 
correct in our statements of them, and yet may not 
know any one of these sciences. The same remark 
applies to the knowledge of mind. 

Nevertheless, it is not a low order of intelligence 
that has taken in, remembered, and is able to apply an 
extensive stock of maxims of practice and utility in 
various departments. There may not be anything 
amounting to high discipline, but there is an ex- 
penditure of good intellectual force. The higher the 
character of the work, the more scope is there for fine 
discrimination or accurate perception, in order to suit 
the means to the end. Navigating a ship, practising 
physic, may be on the basis of information alone ; but it 
is a superior order of information. There is, in short, a 
scale of amount and difficulty, in regard to what we may 
consider as mere information ; and when we touch the 
higher degrees, we come upon something that involves 
the best faculties or forces of the mind. 

The truth is, that for the higher professions the extent 
of practical knowledge is such that it cannot be compre- 
hended, held together, or rendered sufficiently precise, 
unless we have a certain amount of science and scientific 
method, such as would probably come within the scope 
of Discipline. 



TRAINING THE FACULTIES. 1 39 

Let us now review the meanings of Discipline, 
While the mere facts of science, turned to account in 
practical operations, are called information, the method 
of science, the systematic construction of it, the power 
of concatenating and deriving truths from other truths, 
is treated as something distinct and superior. The 
thorough comprehension of the method of Euclid, the 
tracing of the Arithmetical and Algebraical rules to first 
principles, would be considered as training, discipline, 
the calling forth of the powers. 

Most definitions of training are obscured through the 
mode of describing mind by faculties. We have seen 
that to train ' Memory ' is a very vague way of speak- 
ing. Equally vague is it to talk of training Reason, 
Conception, Imagination, and so forth. Moral training 
is much more intelligible ; there is here a habit of sup- 
pressing certain active tendencies of the mind, and 
fostering others ; and this is done by a special discipline 
— like training horses or making soldiers. The analogy 
is not very close between these exercises and the im- 
provement of the intellectual powers; still, such as it 
is, it is illustrative. To train a soldier is to bring him 
to the ready performance of a number of combined 
movements, to which he is led on by graduated exercises. 
Head knowledge, or information, is combined with the 
training, but is a distinguishable factor. In all other 
skilled avocations, a similar element of training is 
present. In many, however, the muscular aptitudes do 
not form the main part; the training penetrates more 
into the thoughts or ideas. For example, the training 
of an officer is more mental than bodily; it consists in 
a knowledge of the configurations, movements, group- 



I40 TERMS EXPLAINED :— TRAINING. 

ings of bodies of men ; and a readiness to direct the 
proper movement in the proper situation. It is know- 
ledge reaHzable in practice with the quickness of an 
instinct. 

While science, as already noted, may be imbibed in 
a form that does not pass beyond information, the arts 
of scientific observation and research imply training 
proper. The senses have to be exalted, the attention 
directed, methods of procedure learnt, to the pitch of 
habituation; with all which there concurs much informa- 
tion of details, but the information is distinct from the 
training. 

In the vast accomplishment of Speech, we can 
enumerate various things properly designated training. 
Elocution, or the management of the voice, would be 
considered as training throughout. The knowledge 
of detached names would exemplify information pure 
and simple; it is bare word memory. The arrange- 
ment of words in sentences, with attention to gramma- 
tical forms and all the other proprieties of speech, would 
be accounted training. The still higher arts of arrang- 
ing the thoughts in lucid expression, if known only as 
rules or theory, might be called information; but when 
embodied in habits would rank as training. Hence we 
speak of a trained orator or writer. It is in this sense 
that moral teaching and moral training are totally dis- 
tinct things. 

The element of Form, Method, Order, Organization, 
as contrasted with the subject-matter viewed without 
reference to form, has a value of its own ; and any 
material that displays it to advantage, and enables it 
to be acquired, is justified by that circumstance alone. 



SUBJECTS THAT GIVE TRAINING. I4I 

The targets used in learning to shoot, the wooden sol- 
diers that are aimed at in sabre drill, although unreal, 
are effectual. 

Worth belongs to any subject of study if it conveys 
methods that are useful far beyond itself The sciences 
that embody an organization for aiding the mind — 
whether in deductive method, such as Geometry and 
Physico-mathematical Science; in observation and in- 
duction, as the Physical Sciences ; or in classification, 
as the Natural History Sciences ; — would on these 
grounds alone be admitted to the higher circle of 
mental Discipline or Training, irrespective of the value 
of the facts and principles viewed separately or in detail. 
It depends partly on the teacher and partly on the 
scholar whether the element of method shall stand 
forth and extend itself, or whether the subjects shall 
only yield their own quantum of matter or information. 

Logic is nothing, if not training. The information 
mixed up with it is all to be used for training purposes. 
It is the element of scientific form, which is more 
thoroughly impressed by being singled out for special 
consideration. It is the grammar of knowledge. 

There is a form of mental efficiency that attaches 
more or less to every productive effort — the giving at- 
tention to all the rules and conditions necessary for the 
result intended. We cannot perform any piece of work 
unless we are alive to everything that is involved in it ; 
we cannot guide a boat, unless we manage sail and 
rudder according to the direction of the wind. We 
cannot turn out a good sentence without fulfilling nume- 
rous conditions. When we follow written rules, we must 
interpret them correctly, and apply them appositely. 



142 TERMS EXPLAINED : — ONE THING WELL. 

This is a discipline that we learn from everything that 
we have to do ; it is not a prerogative of any one study 
or occupation, and it does not necessarily extend itself 
beyond the special subject. Because a man can hunt 
well, it does not follow that he shall be a good politician 
or a good judge ; although in all these functions there 
is the common circumstance of taking account of 
every condition that enters into a given effect. A 
very superior mind, like Cromwell's, probably transfers 
the conditions of efficiency from one department to 
others remote from it; and thus becomes rapidly de- 
veloped into fitness for new domains of practice. 

In our subsequent review of Education Values, the 
difference between Information and Training will be 
rendered still more precise. 

ONE THING WELL. 

This is a favourite commonplace of teaching and of 
private study. It proceeds upon the idea that it is 
better to be thoroughly versed in one limited walk of 
knowledge or culture, than to pass slightly over a wider 
area. 

There are different senses attached to learning any- 
thing well. In the first place, it may mean simply that 
full habituation to any piece of knowledge or practice 
that makes it a matter of mechanical certainty and ease ; 
as in the case of a thorough proficient in Arithmetical 
sums. Long iteration has this effect in everything ; and 
it is indispensable in matters of business occupation. 

In the second place, there is a higher form of learn- 
ing anything well, by which is meant a full and minute 
acquaintance with all details, qualifications, exceptions, 



THOROUGH KNOWLEDGE. 1 43 

and whatever is included in the complete mastery of a 
large and complicated system. This is the equipment 
of a thorough lawyer or a thorough physician, who must 
know both leading doctrines and their varying applica- 
tions to a wide host of varying circumstances. So much 
is involved in these professions, that no man is expected 
to be versed in more than one. So, in any of the lead- 
ing sciences, there is a kind of inaster)' that is equally 
multifarious and absorbing ; whether it be the innume- 
rable combinations of mathematical formulae, the vast 
details accompanying an experimental science, like 
Chemistry, or the seemingly still more inexhaustible 
fields of Botany and Zoology. To be thoroughly ac- 
complished in any one of these branches, we must be 
content with a limited acquaintance with the other 
departments. The expression for this higher knowledge 
is more properly inulfa than multtiin\ the field may be 
circumscribed, but its minute and exhaustive survey 
implies a multitudinous knowledge. For the highest 
uses of a science, this is the only knowledge that avails. 
In the point of view of information, a single fact, if 
clearly understood, is of value, although no other be 
drawn from the same source. And even as regards 
discipline, in the acceptation of special method, this is 
best learned in a select and limited portion of material ; 
as when we study classification from Botany. In neither 
of these respects is it necessary to spend time over an 
exclusive subject. Having a definite purpose, we must 
pick and choose at many points, and the present maxim 
is without relevance. 

In a right view of scientific education, the first prin- 
ciples and leading examples, with select details, of all 



144 TERMS EXPLAINED : — ONE THING WELL. 

the great sciences, are the proper basis of the complete 
and exhaustive study of any single science. This may 
not be apparent in Mathematics, the first of the funda- 
mental sciences, but it applies to all beyoad. A man 
cannot be a good chemist without possessing, on the 
one side, a fair knowledge of Physics, grounded in Ma- 
thematics, and, on the other, some acquaintance with 
Physiology. The thorough knowledge of every subject 
implicates everything that leads up to it, as well as 
everything that can throw side-lights upon it; although, 
of course, these aiding subjects are not mastered to the 
same extent as the subject that they are intended to 
assist. In almost all departments of study there are 
gradations of acquirement, each thorough and sufficient 
for a given purpose. This is least true of languages ; 
seeing that, till we have reached the point when a 
language can be used in communication, we have done 
little or nothing. 

In the situation of the beginner in any branch of 
knowledge, it is expedient to abide by one course, one 
scheme, one book, although not absolutely perfect. When 
the very groundwork has to be laid, distracting views are 
to be avoided. Before criticizing, controverting, or amend- 
ing a system, the teacher should make his pupils perfectly 
familiar with its details. In Geometry, Euclid, or what- 
ever other book is chosen, is verbally adhered to, as if 
it were an infallible revelation; when once thoroughly 
known, defects may be pointed out, and alternative lines 
of demonstration indicated. It is very desirable, not- 
withstanding, that the book so used should have as 
(ew defects as possible. The principle contended for 
by De Morgan, that Euclid is the best book for begin- 



THE MAXIM ABUSED. I45 

ners because of its defects, is not merely paradoxical 
but positively unsound. It proceeds upon the admitted 
necessity of finding some exercises for the pupils' own 
powers, in teaching a science. But such exercises can 
be obtained apart from the blunders of a text-book ; 
which blunders, being unintended, cannot, except by the 
barest accident, answer any purpose of tuition. 

The present doctrine is abused in the great English 
schools by being made the pretext of narrowing the 
studies to the old traditional classics, as against the ad- 
mixture of science and modern thought. The allegation 
is that two or three subjects well taught — meaning Latin, 
Greek, and Mathematics — do more good than six or 
seven less well taught, although these may include 
English, Physics, and Chemistry. The same narrow- 
ing tendency is repeated, from the modern side, in 
the demand for very minute and practical knowledge 
in such vast and absorbing subjects as Chemistry, Phy- 
siology, Zoology. In estimating the value of a branch of 
study, we must consider not merely what it gives us, but 
what, through engrossment of our time, it deprives us of 

The viultiini non uinlta is in curious conflict with the 
most popular current definition of education — the har- 
monious and balanced cultivation of all the faculties.' 

' There is much force in the following observations quoted from Mt. 
T. Davison, in Mark Pattison's article on Oxford Studies in Oxford Essays, 
1855 : ' A man who has been trained to think upon one subject, or for one 
subject only, will never be a good judge in that one ; whereas the enlarge- 
ment of his circle gives him increased knowledge and power in a rapidly- 
increasing ratio. So much do ideas act, not as solitary units, but by 
grouping and combination ; and so clearly do all the things that fall 
within the proper province of the same faculty of the mind, intertwine 
with and support each other. Judgment lives as it were by comparison 
and discrimination.' 



CHAPTER V. 

EDUCATION VALUES. 

I WILL now glance at the leading branches of human 
culture, with a view to seize the characteristic mental 
efficacy of each. I do not propose to take up every 
assignable acquisition, but merely those things that 
enter into the ordinary course of school education. 
There are various departments of valuable training that 
properly come under individual self-culture ; such are 
games, arts, and accomplishments. 

The carrying out of our design involves a full con- 
sideration of the two leading departments, SCIENCE and 
Language. These comprise the great mass of human 
information in its purest types, and should be thoroughly 
appraised before entering upon mixed subjects, such as 
Geography and History. Fine Art will be touched on, 
and then adjourned to a chapter apart. The mere 
purely mechanical acquirements, as Drawing and 
Handicraft, will be considered only in their subser- 
vience to Intellectual Education. 

THE SCIENCES. 

Of Science generally we can remark, first, that it is 
the most perfect embodiment of Truth, and of the wavs 



SECURITIES FOR TRUTH. I47 

of getting at Truth. More than anything else does it 
impress the mind with the nature of Evidence, with the 
labour and precautions necessary to prove a thing. It 
is the grand corrective of the laxness of the natural 
man in receiving unaccredited facts and conclusions. It 
exemplifies the devices for establishing a fact, or a law, 
under every variety of circumstances ; it saps the credit 
of everything that is affirmed without being properly 
attested. 

Before the birth of science, and in minds debarred 
from scientific training, the greatest security for truth 
has been practice. We cannot secure any practical end 
in this world without observing the natural conditions ; 
we must estimate the force of a current in order to build 
a rampart that will stand ; we must know the motives 
of a man before we can secure his services. In propor- 
tion to our regard for truth, and to our means of ascer- 
taining what is true, is our power over the material and 
the moral world. The greatest test of our knowledge is 
the test of practical fulfilment ; this is the scientific man's 
test ; so that the man of practice and the man of science 
have this much in common. 

The defect of the practical man is the limitation of 
his tests to his own sphere of working ; he seldom learns 
to extend his methods into other spheres. It is possible 
to be a good engineer and, at the same time, a very 
prejudiced judge of the human feelings. An accom- 
plished lawyer is not necessarily a good administrator. 

The second great liberalizing feature of Science is its 
mode of setting forth general or generalized knowledge ; 
the antithesis of the individual and the general, Avith the 
gradations of generality and the various relations of co- 



148 EDUCATION VALUES: — SCIENCE. 

ordination and subordination, constituting the heart and 
soul of method in grappHng with multitudinous and 
complicated facts. The untrained mind confounds ge- 
neral and particular, co-ordinate and subordinate, in 
one inextricable jumble. It is through science that we 
take the best grasp of the method of unfolding a subject 
from the simple to the complex. 

In reviewing the Sciences in order, we may divide 
those relating to the outer world under three groups : 
Mathematics, as representing Abstract and Demonstra- 
tive Science ; the Experimental Sciences — Physics, 
Chemistry, and Physiology ; and the Sciences of Classi- 
fication, commonly called Natural History. The Science 
of Mind will be taken apart. 

TJie A bstract Sciences. 

Mathematics, including not merely Arithmetic, 
Algebra, Geometry, and the higher Calculus, but also 
the applied Mathematics of Natural Philosophy, has a 
marked and peculiar method or character ; it is by pre- 
eminence deductive or demo7istrative, and exhibits in a 
nearly perfect form all the machinery belonging to this 
mode of obtaining truth. Laying down a very small 
number of first principles, either self-evident or requiring 
very little effort to prove them, it evolves a vast number 
of deductive truths and applications, by a procedure in 
the highest degree mathematical and systematic. Now, 
although it is chiefly in the one domain of Quantity, 
that this machinery has its fullest scope, yet, as in every 
subject that the mind has to discuss, there is a frequent 
resort to the deductive, demonstrative, or downward 



THE CHAINS OF DEMONSTRATION. I49 

procedure, as contrasted with the direct appeal to obser- 
vation, fact, or induction, a mathematical training is a 
fitting equipment for the exercise of this function. The 
rigid definition of all leading terms and notions ; the 
explicit statement of all the first principles ; the onward 
march by successive deductions, each one reposing on 
ground already secured ; no begging of either premisses 
or conclusions ; no surreptitious admissions ; no shifting 
of ground ; no vacillation in the meanings of terms, — all 
this is implied in the perfect type of a deductive science. 
The pupil should be made to feel that he has accepted 
nothing without a clear and demonstrative reason ; to 
the entire exclusion of authority, tradition, prejudice, or 
self-interest. 

Such is, to a very considerable degree, the impression 
made by a course of mathematical instruction. It would 
be made in a still higher degree if the science were more 
true to itself, and did not permit a certain looseness 
of treatment in the Definitions, and still more in the 
Axioms ; while, in the demonstrations, merely verbal 
transitions are sometimes given as steps of demonstra- 
tions. These deficiencies will, in time, be remedied, and 
the science will then be, what it scarcely is yet, an em- 
bodiment of pure Deduction. 

In addition to this general view of Demonstrative 
Reasoning, the details of Mathematical science contri- 
bute some of the most valuable materials towards the 
building up of the reasoning powers. 

For example, it is here that we begin to understand 
the manner of handling concurrent elements. We have 
a result determined by two or three factors, and we 
learn to compute the bearing of any change in any one 



150 EDUCATION VALUES : — SCIENCE. 

or more ot these factors. We find one or two of them 
remaining unchanged, and yet the result varies because 
of a change in the third ; we see how all may change 
and the result remain constant, from the changes being 
such as to neutralize each other, and so on. The steady 
application of this simple process to the more compli- 
cated operations of nature and of mind distinguishes 
the educated intellect. The exercise is still further 
carried out in Mechanics, in connection with forces, and 
is thus made still more pointed in its ulterior applica- 
tions.' 

' Take the following as further instances. The heat of any given 
day is due partly to the position of the sun, corresponding to that day, 
partly to atmospheric causes, of which the chief is the prevailing wind. 
'When a course is set in motion, and acts constantly in one direc- 
tion with a steady and uniform nisus, its operation may sometimes be 
suppressed by an overwhelming opposition, sometimes repressed and 
weakened, though not quite overborne, by impeding and retarding forces. 
Thus the fear of punishment is a cause constantly acting in the same 
direction. Its tendency is always to deter ; but this tendency may be 
counteracted in each actual case by a variety of circumstances which some- 
times weaken and sometimes nullify its operation. Freedom of trade 
tends constantly to facilitate supply, and thus to produce cheapness ; but 
in considering the probability of this effect being produced in any individual 
case, we must estimate the probability of such events as deficient harvests, 
difficulty of freight, insecurity arising from war or civil commotions, and 
the like. The reduction of a high customs duty on any article would 
naturally tend to increase its importation ; yet a change in the public taste, 
or the discovery of a cheaper or preferable substitute, might prove an 
effectual counteraction to this tendency.' — Lewis's ^ Methods of Observation 
and Beasotiing in Politics,^ vol. ii., p. 1 71. 

The phrase ' cseteris paribus' (other things remaining the same) is a 
mathematical coinage, for guarding against the error of supposing that a 
course will produce its effect under all circumstances indiscriminately. 

In Addison's Essays 09t the Pleastires of the hnagination there is a 
triple conversation, which he manages thus : — 'I shall first consider those 
pleasures of the imagination which arise from the actual view and survey 
of outward objects ; and these, I think, all proceed from the sight of what 



BEARINGS OF COMPOSITION OF FORCE. 15I 

What renders a problem definite, and what leaves it 
indefinite, may be best understood from Mathematics. 
The very important idea of solving a problem within 

is great, uncommon, or beautiful. There may, indeed, be something, so 
terrible or offensive, that the horror or loathsomeness of an object ma) 
overbear the pleasure which results from its greatness, novelty, or beauty ; 
but still there will be such a mixture of delight in the very disgust it gives 
us, as any of these three qualifications are most conspicuous and prevailing.' 
This is a slight and passing testimony to the principle of composite forces. 
A mind trained on Pure and Applied Mathematics would make it play 
a leading part all through the investigation. 

Take, as another example, the complex influences that enter into 
Nationality, as expressed by J. S. Mill: — 'A portion of mankind may be 
said to constitute a Nationality, if they are united among themselves by 
common sympathies, which do not exist between them and any others — 
which make them co-operate with each other more willingly than with 
other people, desire to be under the same government, and desire that it 
should be government by themselves, or a portion of themselves, exclu- 
sively. This feeling of nationality may have been generated by various 
causes. Sometimes it is the effect of identity of race and descent. Com- 
munity of language, and community of religion, greatly contribute to it. 
Geographical limits are one of its causes. But the strongest of all is 
identity of political antecedents ; the possession of a national history, and 
consequent community of recollections ; collective pride and humiliation, 
pleasure and regret, connected with the same incidents in the past. None 
of these circumstances, however, are either indispensable, or necessarily 
sufficient by themselves.' For handling a discussion of this nature, a 
knowledge of the facts is not enough ; there must be also a firm grasp of 
the conception of concurring elements, and of all the varying results that 
different proportions of these may bring about. The groundwork of this 
conception is best and soonest got at by a discipline in the Mathematical 
Sciences. 

In laying down the indications of depravity in men's dispositions, 
Benlham uses, not improperly, the forms of mathematics. For example : 
' The strength of the temptation being given, the mischievousness of the 
disposition manifested by the enterprize, is as the apparent mischievousness 
of the act.' Or again : 'The apparent mischievousness of the act being 
given, a man's disposition is the more depraved, the slighter the tempta- 
tion by which he has been overcome.' 

Aristotle, in Book I. chap. vii. of the ' Rhetoric,' compares different 
degrees of what is good, and makes great use of mathematical forms. 



152 EDUCATION VALUES :- SCIENCE. 

limits of error is an element of rational culture, coming 
from the same source. The art of totalizing fluctuations 
by curves is capable of being carried, in conception, far 
beyond the mathematical domain, where it is first learnt. 
The distinction between laws and co-efficients applies in 
every department of causation. The theory of Probable 
Evidence is the mathematical contribution to Logic, and 
is of paramount importance. The remark of Gibbon 
was very loose, that mathematics disqualifies the mind 
for dealing with subjects where we attain only pro- 
bability. 

All this supposes Mathematics in its aspect of train- 
ing ; oi as providing forms, methods, and ideas that 
enter into the whole mechanism of reasoning, wherever 
that takes a scientific shape. As culture imposed upon 
everyone, this is its highest justification. But, if so, 
these fruitful ideas should be made prominent in the 
teaching ; that is to say, the teacher should be fully 
conscious of their all-penetrating influence. Moreover, 
he should keep in view the fact that nine-tenths of 
pupils derive their chief benefit from these ideas and 
forms of thinking, which they can transfer to other 
regions of knowledge ; for the large majority, the solu- 
tion of problems is not the highest end. 

In the point of view of information, the uses of 
Mathematics are more obvious ; but these uses, when 
carried to their utmost stretch, suppose special profes- 
sions. For people generally, facility in Arithmetical 
sums is very desirable, and this is greatly increased 
when the study is prolonged into the higher brancheg 
of Algebra. Geometry, besides its uses to the land 
surveyor, engineer, navigator, and many others, has a 



WHAT MATHEMATICS DOES NOT DO. 1 53 

more general utility in enabling one readily to estimate 
forms, distances, situations, and configurations, whether 
on the small scale or the great. In the examples of 
Arithmetical and Algebraical operations, much valuable 
practical knowledge is incidentally obtained ; and more 
might be done to turn the opportunity to account. 

Those that can readily master the difficulties of 
Mathematics find a considerable charm in the study, 
sometimes amounting to fascination. This is far from 
universal ; but the subject contains elements of strong 
interest of the kind that constitutes the pleasures of 
knowledge. The marvellous devices for solving prob- 
lems elate the mind with the feeling of intellectual 
power ; and the innumerable constructions of the science 
leave us lost in wonder. 

There are advantages claimed for Mathematics that 
are not specially confined to it. For example, in follow- 
ing out a long demonstration, the power of sustained 
attention is necessary ; but there are fifty things besides 
Mathematics that need this power. The advantages 
above set forth are such as Mathematics is peculiarly 
fitted to give, and without which they are scarcely ever 
attained at all. In so far as the physical sciences un- 
fold similar advantages the way is paved for them by 
Mathematics. 

To this short sketch of what Mathematics does, we 
should, for the sake of clearness, append what it does not 
do, and must be left undone, if we stop with it. It does 
not teach us how to observe, how to generalize, how to 
classify. It does not teach us the prime art of Defining 
by the examination of particular things. It guards us 
against some of the snares of language, but not all ; it 



154 EDUCATION VALUES: — SCIENCE. 

is no aid when statements and arguments are perplexed 
by verbiage, contortions, inversions, or ellipses. It is 
not the same as Syllogism in Logic, and is not in any 
sense a substitute for Logic, although it is a valuable 
adjunct. The too exclusive devotion to it gives a 
wrong bias of mind respecting truth generally; and, 
historically, it has introduced serious errors into philo- 
sophy and general thinking. 

The Experimental and Inductive Sciences. 

When we leave Mathematics, pure and applied, in- 
cluding a considerable part of Natural Philosophy, we 
enter the domain of EXPERIMENTAL and INDUCTIVE 
Science, throughout the whole of which a common 
character prevails in all that regards intellectual disci- 
pline. The experimental branches of Physics or Natural 
Philosophy, the whole of Chemistry, and Physiology, dis- 
play the Experimental and Inductive Methods in their 
purity. 

Throughout this wide field the precautions for ar- 
riving at truth by Observation and Experiment attain 
their highest exemplary force. The ascertaining of a 
solitary fact, which the untutored mind regards lightly, 
is in these sciences regarded as a serious task. To find 
out the change of bulk in oxygen gas, when converted 
into ozone by the electric spark, Dr. Andrews repeated 
one experiment several hundreds of times. 

With the determining of facts goes the process of 
Inductive Generalization, of which these departments 
afford the best models. It is in this school, if anywhere, 
that the natural tendency of the mind to over-generali- 



METHODS OF THE PHYSICAL SCIENCES. 1 55 

zation is corrected. The history of physical discoveries 
is a perpetual warning against generalizing too fast ; and 
the logic of these sciences provides the texts and canons 
of sound procedure. The establishment of the law of 
gravitation by Newton was a grand lesson in the gene- 
ralizing process. The difference between an established 
induction and a temporary hypothesis was there clearly 
exemplified, and will not be forgotten. It is from the 
sphere of the Physical Sciences that Inductive method 
has been transferred to other subjects, as Mind, Politics, 
History, Medicine, and many besides. 

In the same field we are taught when and how far 
empirical and limited generalities are to be trusted. 
We also get a practical exemplification of the rules of 
Probable Evidence, whose foundations are laid in Ma- 
thematics. In this, as in other points, the Physical 
Sciences are the best transition from the abstract for- 
mulas of Mathematics, with their demonstrative cer- 
tainty, to the regions of probability, as exemplified in 
human affairs. 

These are but a few of the more prominent lessons 
of Method imparted through the physical sciences. It 
would take a long chapter to show how the ideas ob- 
tainable from them permeate into other fields of know- 
ledge, as was exemplified in the Mathematical sciences. 

In the point of view of information for direct use, 
the three subjects under consideration are by empha- 
sis the region of ' Useful Knowledge.' From Physics, 
from Chemistry, from Physiology, flow innumerable 
streams of fertilizing information, diffusing themselves 
in all the arts and conduct of life. Not only are they 
at the basis of many special crafts, but they provide 



156 EDUCATION VALUES : — SCIENCE. 

guidance to every human being in endless variety of 
situations. For .some kinds of knowledge we can trust 
to a skilled adviser; but every denizen of the globe 
needs perpetually to apply physical, chemical, or phy- 
siological laws, in circumstances where no adviser can 
be near. Still more is the occupier of a tenement in 
modern civilized life dependent on a ready knowledge 
of the truths in these departments. 

The applications of Natural Philosophy to all our 
familiar operations are very apparent. Among our 
household tools .are levers, pulleys, inclined planes, and 
many other forms of solid machiner}/-. We have to 
manage windows, grates, bells, clocks ; we have to con- 
sider adequacy of support in endless forms. We have, 
in the circulation of water, hydrostatic and hydraulic prin- 
ciples to carry out. We have gaseous operations in the 
admission and the egress of air, in warming and venti- 
lating, and in the use of coal-gas for illumination. The 
principles of heating are encountered in steam tension 
and the explosion of boilers. It is not enough to be 
able to call in workmen, when anything is deranged ; we 
ought ourselves to understand the operation of all the 
forces, so as to take the right precautions at every mo- 
ment ; and this we may do partly by empirical know- 
ledge, but still better by the aid of scientific principles. 

The immediate uses of Chemistry are perhaps fewer 
in number, but they are equally important. The cor- 
roding effect of acids and of alkalies, the solvent action 
of spirits of wine and of oil of turpentine for varnished 
surfaces that are unaffected by water, the protection of 
dresses and of furniture from dangerous chemicals used 
in household work, as well as many things connected 



USEFUL KNOWLEDGE. 1 57 

with washing, with cookery, and with the keeping of 
household stores, — involve a certain amount of chemical 
knowledge. 

The use of Physiology in the preservation of the 
health and soundness of the body, gives an additional 
value to the preparatory Physics and Chemistry without 
which it is but imperfectly understood. Although the 
more important results of Physiology are embodied in 
practical measures as to the need of pure air, sufficient 
and wholesome food, alternation of exercise and rest, 
the dependence of the mental powers on bodily condi- 
tions, — yet these great maxims are scarcely apprehended 
in their full force without some familiarity with physio- 
logical science. Moreover, although nothing less than 
professional medical skill suffices for the greater part 
of the derangements of the body, nevertheless, the co- 
operating intelligence of the patient is of the greatest 
help in the process of cure. But as the science is still 
imperfect, even in the best hands, we must not exagge- 
rate its powers. What it does is sufficiently important to 
reward the study; yet to say, as has been said, that it 
is capable of prescribing the proper moderation of the 
sexual appetite, is to claim a result not as yet attainable 
by any science. 

The three experimental sciences now named cover 
a very large field of phenomena, and the understand- 
ing of them enables us to penetrate into many of the 
secret workings of the natural world. The gratification 
of enlightened curiosity afforded by them is among 
our first-class pleasures ; and their past history, with 
the daily record of their advancement, is a sensible 
contribution to the occupation of the mind and the zest 



158 EDUCATION VALUES : — SCIENCE. 

of life. The intercourse with our fellows that is based 
on the giving and receiving of knowledge is the least 
tainted with what is gross and grovelling. 



The Sciences of Classification. 

The third great scientific region is what is commonly 
called Natural History, represented by Mineralogy, 
Botany, and Zoology, whose peculiarity is to create a 
System of Classification for embracing an enor- 
mous detail of objects. All these branches have their 
other aspect as sciences of Observation, Experiment, 
and Induction; they are, in fact, the previous sciences 
over again, but accommodated to the emergency of 
putting into orderly array the vast multitude of mine- 
rals, plants, and animals. 

Now, to learn to classify is itself an education. In 
these Natural History branches, the art has been of 
necessity attended to, and is shown in the highest state 
of advancement. Botany is the most complete in its 
method; which is one of the recommendations of the 
science in early education. Mineralogy and Zoology 
have greater difficulties to contend with ; so that where 
they succeed, their success is all the greater. 

Much of the subject matter of the sciences of Physics, 
Chemistry, and Physiology is agreeably repeated in the 
descriptions of Natural History: a mineral is given as 
possessing mathematical, physical, and chemical pro- 
perties ; each animal possesses anatomical structure and 
physiological function. 

There is a great mass of useful knowledge mixed 
up with these sciences, although perhaps more for the 



NATURAL HISTORY. 159 

special arts than for universal application. But the 
interest excited by the concrete detail is very great ; it 
is the easiest of all forms of scientific interest. People 
can be got to study and collect animals, plants, and 
minerals, without going deep into the physiological and 
physical laws. Indeed, the maximum of interest often 
attaches to the minimum of science, as in the search for 
plants ; but this taste is both something in itself, and 
also the introduction to more genuine studies. 

In the discussions of the present day, as between 
creation and evolution, a knowledge of plant and 
animal structure is a preparation for judging of the ar- 
guments on each side. The enlarged views of recent 
years on the spread of vegetation lend a high cosmical 
interest to botanical knowledge. 

Zoology is a handmaid to Human Anatomy and 
Physiology, on which must ever converge the highest of 
all utilities. 

Whoever has made a study of the mother sciences — 
Physics, Chemistry, and Physiology — is capable of en- 
tering upon the corresponding Natural History sciences, 
although no single mind can exhaust the detail of any 
one of them. It becomes, therefore, a nice point of 
teaching to select some adequate representative particu- 
lars, so as not to waste time upon an interminable region 
of facts. The MetJiod should be thoroughly conceived ; 
for in all studies of detail — Medicine, Law, Geography, 
History — that will be found to operate in imparting lucid 
arrangement. Indeed, clearness in style and composi- 
tion depends as much upon the arrangement of the 
ideas as upon the mode of expressing them, and no one 
subject is more suggestive of good arrangement, even in 



l60 EDUCATION VALUES : — SCIENCE. 

the order of a paragraph, than the method embodied in 
the Natural History sciences. 

From the Natural History sciences we might pro- 
ceed to the consideration of Geography, which has still 
more of the characteristics of concreteness and compre- 
hensiveness. As it draws contributions from nearly every 
science, it seems to comprehend them all. This gives 
it a factitious and misleading charm, as if it were the 
grand portal to the sciences. More soberly measured, it 
contains a large store of practical information, it fills the 
imagination with vast, various, and interesting views, and 
it is the essential groundwork of the study of history. 

The Science of Mind. 

Of the fundamental departments of knowledge, I 
have not yet spoken of the Mind, which is explained 
in a separate science, called Mental Science, or Psy- 
chology. 

It is generally allowed that some knowledge of the 
constitution of the mind is desirable. But this is seldom 
sought for in the science of the mind ; people are con- 
tent with the knowledge that comes to them in other 
forms ; as in personal experience, in common maxims, 
in history, oratory, romance. All this may be good or 
bad as information, but it is nothing at all as method or 
training. In point of fact, much of it is incorrect and 
wrong ; and the purpose of a science of mind is to rectify 
all that. 

The student should go to the science of Mind pre- 
pared by the discipline and the information gained in 
the previous sciences, more especially the Mathematical 



PSYCHOLOGY AND LOGIC. l6l 

and the Experimental groups. If pursued on this basis, 
Psychology will superadd a discipline of its own, while 
extending the quantity and improving the quality of our 
mental knowledge. 

Some of the greatest problems that can occupy the 
attention of mankind are grounded in the human con- 
stitution ; and the scientific handling of mind has been 
often impeded by the partisan solutions given to such 
questions as Absolute Being, Innate Ideas, the Moral 
Sense. Unless entire impartiality can be shown in 
dealing with these subtleties, a theory of the mind may 
darken all that it touches. 

The subject of LOGIC is usually associated with the 
Science of Mind, although it has an independent stand- 
ing of its own. Logic, in the enlarged view of it taken 
at the present day, is a suitable accompaniment of a 
course of the Sciences, as we have sketched them. It 
directs attention upon the points of Method or Dis- 
cipline in each science, which the cultivator is apt to 
neglect in his zeal for the matter or information of each. 
Even with Mathematics, a logical commentary is de- 
sirable ; it is no less useful both in the Inductive and in 
the Classificatory Sciences. 

The foregoing sketch comprises the field of the 
theoretical or knowledge-giving sciences, those that 
embrace the most complete and systematic view of all 
the kingdoms of natural phenomena. They both pre- 
sent the scientific method and spirit in the greatest 
perfection, and impart the greatest amount of accurate 
information. Whatever scientific culture can do, is done 



l62 EDUCATION VALUES: — SCIENCE. 

by the curriculum thus laid down. Of this culture, 
perhaps the greatest result is embraced under the devo- 
tion to Truth, which, allowing for human infirmities, 
must emerge as a consequence of being initiated in all 
the devices of modern research. How the cultivation 
of this cardinal virtue tells in every department of life 
need not be here insisted on. The moral disposition to 
veracity avails little without the tests and methods of 
distinguishing true from false, while men »well versed 
in these seldom quarrel on matters of fact, seldom keep 
up irritating controversies as to what is or is not. The 
disputes of the scientifically educated are narro\ved to 'j-. 
some very special^andMifficultvissues. ^ "^ 

The Analyzing operation, which pervades all science, 
is most pointedly opposed to the crude and clumsy pro- 
cedure of the untutored mind, which insists on treating 
things in the lump. The British Constitution is a vast 
mass of arrangements, which a scientific politician views 
separately, pointing out which are instrumental to our 
safety and happiness, which are detrimental and need 
amending, and which are neutral or indifferent. The 
vulgar reasoner will speak of the mass only as one in- 
divisible agent. 

The bearings of Science upon Fine Art should be 
properly understood. In the first place, Science checks 
the extravagant departures from truth in Art, and is thus 
a medium of purifying Art productions. This is a great 
negative result ; for it is an undoubted tendency of Art 
to depart from truth in order to pander more fully to 
ideality and illimitable desire. 

In the next place. Science discloses new facts, new 



SCIENCE AND FINE ART. l6$ 

laws, new views, which have more or less power to 
interest our feelings, and thus become materials for the 
artist. Astronomical discovery has furnished many new 
and enlarged conceptions of the celestial sphere, tending 
to nourish the sentiment of the highest sublime. The 
terrestrial forces have been displayed in novel and 
striking aspects through the physical discoveries ; and 
the result is both to cultivate poetry, and to make 
science itself poetical. 

In the third place, it is not to be concealed that 
Science and Art pursue totally different lines, even to 
antagonism. The analyzing operation of science is 
at variance with the concreteness of poetry ; the ab- 
stract, uncouth, and technical expressions that grasp 
scientific truth, are repugnant to the artistic tastes ; 
the check interposed to poetic ideality by the severity 
of scientific truth, is an abatement of our artistic 
pleasures. 

Striking a balance among these three considerations, 
we conclude that the artist should have a certain amount 
of scientific education, as a prelude to his art, while he 
is not to be expected to keep his mind immersed in the 
scientific ideas and forms most removed from aesthetic cul- 
ture. Two of the most luxuriant imaginative minds of this 
century — Thomas Chalmers and Thomas Carlyle — were 
in youth good mathematicians; and much more might 
a man of artistic mould afford to drink deep in the 
Inductive, Classificatory, and Mental Sciences. 

T/ie Practical or Applied Sciences. 

In these, the matter of the Knowledge-giving 
sciences, as above enumerated, is turned to account in 



164 EDUCATION VALUES : — SCIENCE. 

practice, and is disposed with that view. In the prac- 
tical science of Mensuration, the propositions of Euchd, 
the rules of Arithmetic, and the formulse of Algebra, are 
torn from their context in a Mathematical system, and 
exhibited in the order suited to the questions in hand. 
In such sciences, the connected form of science is absent ; 
the information imparted is much less compared with 
the bulk ; the needs of the practical man are alone 
considered. The practical sciences of Navigation, Ma- 
chinery, Engineering, Metallurgy, Agriculture, Medicine 
and Surgery, War, which are all in relation to Physical 
Science, must remain- as the special acquisitions of pro- 
fessions or crafts. The practical departments related 
to the Human Mind, as Politics, Ethics, Law, Grammar, 
and Rhetoric, are of more widespread interest ; a large 
portion of them entering into general education. On 
these a few remarks may be made. 

And first, of the Sociological group — including Poli- 
tics, Political Economy, Legislation, and Law or Jurispru- 
dence. Politics is the science of Government, so far as 
regards the form of government — whether Monarchcial, 
Aristocratic, or Republican. It is in close alliance 
with History, whose highest aim is to throw light upon 
the constitution and workings of Government, in which 
lofty aim it aspires to be an independent branch of 
study, called Historical Philosophy, or the Philosophy of 
History. This subject is still in a somewhat unsettled 
state, although rapidly tending to become organized 
under the name of Sociology. 

Political Economy is a separate department of 
Political Science, concerning itself with the laws that 
regulate Industry to the greatest advantage. Its place 



LEGISLATION AND JURISPRUDENCE. 165 

in Education is, therefore, considered very high among 
practical sciences. To a student accustomed to scientific 
reasoning, it is not a difficult subject : still it is one that 
needs the aids of public teaching. To promote an 
enlightened opinion in matters regarding Trade, all 
educated persons ought to know something of this de- 
partment ; while, in the operations of Government, it is 
imperatively required. It lends indirect support to the 
moral habits of industry, justice, and veracity, in which 
character it ought to be universally diffused ; but in that 
case the teaching should be so conducted as to make 
these lessons prominent.' 

Legislation in its widest sense includes all the opera- 
tions of the supreme Legislature ; but a portion of these 
relate to the constitution of the Government, or Politics 
in the narrowest sense ; while another portion comprises 
the laws relative to Industry, as grounded in Political 
Economy. The prevention of Crimes and the enforce- 
ment of Rights constitute a large department, including 
Penal Legislation or Punishments. Legislation also de- 
termines all the relationships of Family ; the conditions 
of Service ; Pauperism ; Education ; the relations of the 
State to Religion. No one science includes the whole 
of these topics. 

Law or Jurisprudence, which are nearly the same 
thing, is a limited subject connected with the form and 
expression of the Laws, as distinct from their substance. 
Ifteaches how laws should be codified, so as to be com- 
pact and intelligible ; and how they should be worded, 

' Mr. William Ellis has long distinguished himself in this application 
of Political knowledge. See his Outlines 0/ Social Economy. 

y 



l66 EDUCATION VALUES: — SCIENCE. 

SO as to admit of exact interpretation. It embraces 
Evidence and Procedure.^ 

Ethics is a science of such conflicting views that, as 
far as concerns its foundations, it is included in the 
higher education, being usually associated with Mental 
Science. Its preceptive part belongs to the diffused 
knowledge of the people, and is inculcated at every 
stage of life, making up what is called Moral Education. 

The sciences of Language are Grammar, Rhetoric, 
and Philology ; the two first have for their subject the 
immediate employment of speech with propriety and 
effect; the third, General Philology, takes a higher 
speculative sweep, and is one of the subjects involved 
in the historical evolution of the race. Each Language 
has its own Grammar, which is taught with the language. 
Rhetoric lays down principles applicable to all languages, 

' In a recent address by Sir James Fitzjames Stephen a claim is made 
for Law, as a branch of public education : ' It has often been to me a sub- 
ject of great surprise, that while the slightest alteration in the machinery 
by which laws are made excites intense interest, the laws themselves, when 
they are made, are treated not as a subject of liberal study and education, 
but as a mystery known to only a few students, and incapable of being com- 
municated to the world at large. I have long been of opinion that such 
subjects as the criminal law, the law of contracts, and the law of wrongs 
are in themselves quite as interesting as the subject of political economy ; 
and I think that if the law were thrown into an intelligible shape, the 
result would not only be of the greatest possible public convenience, but 
would constitute a new branch of literature and of public education.' 

There can be little doubt that Law is a most valuable discipline in many 
important matters connected with everyday life. It tends to arrest pre- 
cipitate conclusions as to the guilt of supposed wrongdoers, and promotes 
justness of dealing in our relations with others. If these lessons could be 
extricated from the load of details necessary to the professional lawyer, and 
presented in a brief compass, they would deservedly rank as a liberalizing 
study. 

Bentham considers that the People should be so far instructed (in 
political matters) as not to quarrel wilh their own interest. 



PRACTICAL SCIENCES NOT DISCIPLINE. 167 

although with some special modifications for each ; an 
inflected and uninflected language cannot employ the 
same devices of arrangement of words in the sentence. 

These various Practical Sciences have no purpose 
beyond their immediate application. None of them can 
be accounted sciences of Method, Discipline, or Training. 
The opposite view is held by many with reference to 
Grammar ; and the arguments will be afterwards con- 
sidered. In the meantime, we lay it down that these 
sciences, by being exclusively accommodated to their 
practical objects, do not, as matter of course, set forth 
the arts and devices of science to advantage ; they re- 
peat in an inferior shape what is best given in the funda- 
mental or knowledge-giving sciences. As branches of 
practical knowledge, they ought to be exact in their 
statements and supported by adequate proofs ; but they 
do not lay themselves out for giving instruction in the 
principles of evidence. 



LANGUAGES. 

We now turn to the great field of Language. While 
the Mother Tongue is an indispensable acquisition, an 
interest also attaches to the Languages of other nations, 
so much so as to lead to the including of these in our 
regular course of Education. 

The learning of a Language has a value according 
to the use that we are to make of it. This is admitted. 
If we are to listen to French, speak French, read and 
write French, we must be taught the language. So, 
Latin being the literary medium of the Middle Ages, had 
to be known by every scholar. But if we are not to use 



l68 EDUCATION VALUES :— LANGUAGES. 

a Language at all, or very little, as is the case with the 
majority of those that learn Latin and Greek at school 
and college, is there any other reason for undergoing 
the labour ? This is the question of the day, as to the 
utility of the Dead Languages. At a later stage I will 
consider the arguments, on both sides. At present I 
intimate my view, as regards the learning of Languages, 
that their main, if not their sole, justification is that we 
mean to use them as languages, to receive and to impart 
knowledge by their means. This does not exclude the 
pleasure that we may take in the poetical compositions 
of a foreign tongue. 

Language is, in the first place, a series of vocables 
addressed to the ear, and to the eye, and reproduced by 
the voice and the hand ; and these have to be associated 
with the objects that constitute their meaning: a very 
extensive exercise of memory. Equally a matter of 
memory is the customary arrangements of words and 
sentences ; although at this point the practical science 
of Grammar comes into play, followed up by another 
science — Rhetoric. These sciences, however, are of value 
only as aids to the knowledge of the language ; and, if 
employed upon a superfluous language, are themselves 
superfluous. It is true that Rhetoric is not confined to 
any one language ; nearly the same precepts are appli- 
cable to all. Yet that is no reason for connecting it 
with an unused language ; we can always find exercises 
in the languages that we are to speak or to write. 

Science and Language embrace between them the 
great field of Intellectual Education, including also the 
higher parts of the education in professions and crafts. 



EARLY MANUAL TRAINING. 1 69 

They do not comprehend, unless incidentally, Mechanical 
Training, the Training of the Senses, Art Training, or 
Moral Training. The two last. Art and Morality, will 
receive separate chapters ; some remarks may be offered 
on the two first at the present stage. 



MECHANICAL TRAINING. 

Mechanical Training includes the command of the 
bodily organs for all the ordinary purposes of life, and 
the special training for special aptitudes. The child's 
spontaneous education furnishes the commencement ; 
imitation and instruction follow. Mechanical trainins: 
is implied in writing and in drawing, w^hich are a part of 
school training ; also in the handling of tools, and the 
performance of operations in the various crafts ; in 
household work ; and in active amusements. The hand 
receives a special training in playing on a musical 
instrument. Parallel to the manual training is the 
vocal training in speaking and in singing ; while there is 
a training in gesture for elegant deportment. 

It is a part of the idea of the early training of 
children in the Kindergarten to push them forward in 
the manual accomplishments, that is, to give them 
the early use of their hands. Irrespective of special 
arts, there is much difference between one person and 
another in manual facility, as applied to the countless 
little emergencies of life ; and it is a great advantage to 
have good hands. Nevertheless, this is not a matter 
for the public teacher to spend time upon, further than 
is required for other purposes. If children can be 
interested in any mechanical employment, they will 



170 EDUCATION VALUES :— THE SENSES. 

acquire skill in it ; but there is an error in allowing 
them to be engrossed in the lower energies of the mind 
to the neglect of the higher. 



TRAINING OF THE SENSES. 

The Exercise and Training of the Senses is much 
insisted on, but is not well defined. Here, too, there is a 
general training suited to all, and a special training for 
special arts. To train any one of the Senses is to in- 
crease its natural power of discrimination, as in colours, 
tones, touches, odours, tastes. An artist in colours un- 
dergoes a training for colour discrimination ; a musician 
and an elocutionist possess an acquired delicacy of 
hearing ; a cook has a training in the palate. This is 
the most precise meaning of the Improvement of the 
Senses. Out of this superior discrimination will grow a 
better memory for the respective sights and sounds and 
tastes ; so that the conceptive concrete faculty will be 
strengthened at the same time. 

The early training of the Senses, as usually pre- 
scribed and practised with Infants, points several 
different ways. There may be an augmented discrimi- 
nation of colour ; also of visible forms and visible 
magnitudes, so as to give a finer sense of the mag- 
nitudes and properties of objects. This is held to be 
a preparation for at least three different accomplish- 
ments : — first, correct estimates of the colours, forms, 
and sizes of things at sight ; second, the arranging of 
colours* and forms into symmetrical groups, to gratify 
the art sensibility; thirdly, the understanding of the 
figures of geometry. The first of these accomplishments 



MEANINGS OF SENSE TRAINING. 171 

— namely, the accurate estimate of colour, form, and 
size by the eye — is of little use generally ; it applies to 
the special arts, and particularly drawing and design, 
with which it is necessarily bound up. This, too, is the 
meaning of the second accomplishment, which is carried 
to marvellous lengths in the Kindergarten ; the children 
being led on to contrive and to execute elegant symme- 
trical forms, by grouping simpler figures in innumerable 
ways. This should not be called Sense Training ; it is a 
special education in Drawing and Design. As to the third 
end — the preparation for Geometry — there is nothing 
to show that this needs any such training or depends 
upon it. The sense foundations of Geometry are so few 
and simple that no one can well escape them ; and 
the science speedily and peremptorily demands that the 
senses shall give place to the constructive reason. A 
geometer must not mistake a triangle for a square, or a 
circle for an ellipse, but he does not need a delicate 
visible perception of the exact proportions of the ellipse; 
he never depends upon the eye for a measurement ; he 
need not be able to detect by sight a small deviation 
from the perpendicular. 

The utility of DRAWING as a general accomplish- 
ment must not be overrated. It is an additional 
acquirement of the hand, and for special purposes is 
valuable or even indispensable. But, as a foundation 
of intellectual training, its influence is liable to be mis- 
taken. It is supposed to train the observing powers, 
thus helping to store the mind with the knowledge of 
visible objects. But this is too vague to be correct. 
Drawing compels the child to observe just what is 
necessary to the end and no more : if to copy another 



1/2 EDUCATION VALUES: — DRAWING. 

drawing, the lines of that must be carefully noted ; if 
to draw from nature, the form and perspective of the 
original must be attended to : but this does not imply- 
much ; it does not involve an eye for outward things 
generally in all their important characters. The pupil 
does not necessarily give any more heed to the things 
that he does not intend to draw. Observation, in its 
full meaning, is not a matter of the senses purely ; it 
consists in interpreting indications, by applying previous 
knowledge, and is a special training within a limited 
sphere. Such is the observation of the Astronomer, the 
Geologist, or the Physician. 

When Drawing is pursued so as to become a taste 
and a fascination, it is too engrossing ; it disturbs the 
balance of the mind, and indisposes for other tasks. 
Worst of all, instead of leading the way to science, by 
assisting to stamp on the understanding the pre-requisite 
assemblages of particulars, it resists the farther advance 
from particulars to generals, and it clothes the particu- 
lars with such a degree of concrete interest, that the 
mind prefers to remain in the concrete. A moderate 
taste and aptitude for drawing may be helpful in the 
more concrete sciences ; especially, if it goes no farther 
than drawing. But when the colour interest takes a deep 
hold of the mind, it imparts a too exclusively pictorial 
character to the intellect, and breeds an unfitness for the 
abstract and analytic procedure of science. 



CHAPTER VI. 

SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

The long chapter on the Psychological basis of Educa- 
tion leaves one point untouched — the Sequence or Suc- 
cession of the Powers and Faculties of the Mind. It is 
important for us to grasp, if we can, not merely the 
leading components of our intellectual structure, but also 
the order of their unfolding. 

If we could suppose the brain, at birth, to possess 
all the physical capabilities of our brain at twenty-one, 
but a tabula rasa in respect of impressions of every sort, 
the order of acquisition would be the strict order of de- 
pendence of one thing upon another. Simple elementary 
impressions would come first, and would be followed up 
by those of a more complex kind ; the concrete would 
precede the abstract, and so on. Priority of study would 
follow a very plain rule ; Analytical or Logical sequence 
would be the one principle of Order. The actual case, 
however, is very different.* 

' Anatomists tell us that the brain grows with great rapidity up to 
seven years of age ; it then attains an average weight of forty ounces (in 
the male). The increase is much slower between seven and fourteen, when 
it attains forty-five ounces ; still slower from fourteen to twenty, when it 
is very near its greatest size. Consequently, of the more difficult intel- 
lectual exercises, some that would be impossible at five or six are easy at 
eight, through the fact of brain-growth alone. This is consistent with all 



174 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

The fact that the educator works upon a growing 
brain, and not upon a completed one, does not invaHdate 
the law of logical order ; it only imposes another set of 

our experience, and is of value as confirming that experience. It often 
happens that you try a pupil with a peculiar subject at a certain age, and 
you entirely fail ; wait a year or two, and you succeed, and that without 
seemingly having done anything expressly to lead up to the point ; although 
there will inevitably be, in the meantime, some sort of experience that 
helps to pave the way. In regard to the symbolical and abstract subjects, 
as arithmetic, algebra, geometry, and grammar, I think the observation 
holds. A difference of two or three years will do everything for those 
subjects. 

This, however, is but one aspect, although a very important one, of the 
varying rate of brain-growth. If we follow the analogy of the muscular 
system, we shall conclude that the times of rapid growth are times of more 
special susceptibility to the .bents imparted during those times. If the 
brain is still unable to grapple with the higher elements, it is making great 
progress with the lower ; whatever it can take a hold of, it can fix and 
engrain with an intensity proportionate to its rate of growth. That is a 
good reason for looking well to the sort of impressions made upon the child 
during the first seven years. 

It would be a great contribution to our subject, if we could fix with any 
degree of definiteness the variation of the plastic adhesiveness of the brain 
through life ; beginning in those years of infancy when it is greatest, and 
going on to its extreme deficiency in old age ; the decrease being, I should 
presume, steady after some year between six and ten. But the determina- 
tion is full of difficulty, owing to the number of collateral circumstances 
that obscure the main fact. 

The growth of the brain is no doubt accompanied by the perfecting of 
a number of innate powers, without which our education would be some- 
thing totally different from what it is. That many of our notions of the 
outer world have the way prepared for them by hereditary impressions, or 
instincts, is a received doctrine of the present day. How far this is so, we 
cannot precisely estimate. For practical purposes, we must observe the 
total appearances presented us in the growth of the infant mind ; we 
cannot disentangle what depends on brain-growth, with hereditary trans- 
mission, from what is due to contact with the actual world. We 
must be content with noticing, as a matter of fact, the age when abstract 
notions can be taken in, without deciding whether the growth of the 
brain, or the accumulation of concrete impressions, is the principal ante- 
cedent. 



THE GROWING MIND. 175 

conditions. I will make a few imaginary suppositions 
by way of illustrating the real state of the case. 

As one alternative, the immaturity of early years 
might amount to positive defect in an important 
sense organ, say sight or hearing. In that case there 
would be a blank in certain impressions that are indis- 
pensable as an ingredient in some department of know- 
ledge. Imperfect discrimination of colours would arrest 
the knowledge of the object world ; while a want of the 
sense of form would be still more fatal. A very large 
part of our education would thus be in total abeyance. 

Again, the sense capabilities might exist, but in such 
an imperfect degree for the first few years, that it would 
be bad economy to attempt to found upon them. The 
natural course of growth might be such, that by waiting 
a year or two, acquisitions that are attended with diffi- 
culty at an early stage, could then be accomplished 
with ease. 

Thirdly, there might be intellectual susceptibility as 
regards all the essential properties of natural things, but 
a want of the vigour of intellectual attention. To strain 
the powers at this stage would then be sheer waste, in 
consequence of interfering with the physical growth. 

Or, lastly, there might be susceptibility and even a 
certain amount of power of attention, but an immaturity 
of the requisite motives and interests. The feelings and 
dispositions might be for a time alien to everything 
intellectual, being engrossed in sense pleasures and 
excitements, whose results as regards knowledge could 
only be accidental, random, and desultory — Imagination 
would be preferred to fact. 

These four suppositions all correspond in some de- 



176 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

gree to the reality. We do actually postpone the com- 
mencement of many studies because the mind at an 
early stage cannot entertain even their most elementary 
conceptions, and still more because we cannot procure 
the requisite attention, from want of routine and per- 
sistence. We do not in this, however, exclude all re- 
ference to the analytic or logical priority ; inasmuch as 
there may be wanted a certain spontaneous absorption 
and fixity of sense impressions before any training ope- 
rations could be commenced. 

The first approximation to defining the order of the 
faculties is given in the commonplace remark that ob- 
servation precedes reflection ; or, in another form, that 
the concrete comes before the abstract ; which is good so 
far, but not very precise. Another maxim is, that the 
Imagination is an earlier faculty than the Reason ; this 
too needs qualifying. 

As an example of the questions to be settled by the 
present enquiry, I may refer to what is a suitable age 
for commencing study, as typified by learning to read. 
The practice and the opinion on this head show a wide 
disparity ; the range is from three years old to seven. 
Further questions arise with respect to the proper times 
of commencing Languages and Sciences respectively. 
On this head, there have been difierences of view. 
Language, being chiefly dependent on Memory, would 
seem to come early, as Memory is strong, while Reason 
or Judgment is still Aveak. The commencement of 
Science needs not merely a preparation of concrete facts, 
but an advanced form of interest or emotion, and a 
great control over the mental attention, which is a late 
acquirement. 



EARLIEST STEPS IN KNOWLEDGE. 1 77 

There is an additional point of nicety, and yet of 
importance, namely, to assign the commencement of 
self-conscious or subjective knowledge — the facts of the 
incorporeal world ; many of which have to be taken 
for granted in the earliest species of composition ad- 
dressed to the young. 

Let us first survey the peculiarities of the infant 
mind ; and, in so doing, we shall sketch the earliest 
steps in knowledge, as depending on those peculia- 
rities : — 

Every one of us has watched, with more or less attention, 
the mental phases of human beings at their different stages of 
growth ; and the result has been a certain vague estimate of the 
changes that advancing years produce upon the faculties. But, 
in proceeding to render an account of the actual sequence, we 
are met at once with the difficulty of finding terms suitable to 
describe our observations. There are a few set phrases that 
are regularly brought into the service. The child, it is said, 
has a great love of activity, a desire to be occupied somehow ; 
dislikes continuous application or attention to any one thing ; is 
joyous, mirthsome, fond of fun and frolic; delights in the exer- 
cise of the senses, and in sensation generally ; is curious and 
inquisitive, even to destructiveness ; is strongly given to imita- 
tion; is remarkably credulous ; is imaginative and fond of dra- 
matizing ; is sociable and sympathetic. On the more exclusively 
intellectual side, the child is prone to observation, and averse 
to abstraction ; is strong in memory, and weak in judgment. 

To reduce these observations into order, we must bring 
them under the usual classification of mental elements — Activi- 
ties, Senses, Emotions, and Intellectual Powers. First, then, 
as to Activity. This is spontaneous and abundant, but fluc- 
tuating, uncertain, and indirect, being the outpouring and 
overflow of natural energy. Among the first eftbrts at educa- 



178 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

tion is the attempt to give it useful directions ; but the readiest 
way is not to force it, but to take it at the moment when it has 
fallen into a good course. Second, as to the Senses. These 
being fresh, and everything being new, sensation as such is 
delightful and coveted ; hence, the employment of the senses, 
and the fruition of the effects, are intense in infancy. But, 
at first, the emotional side preponderates, and the intellectual 
side, which is nourished by nice distinctions, does not attain 
an early development. The emotional force partly paves the 
way for, but partly obstructs, the intellectual. Third, the Emo- 
tions, strictly so called, as distinguished from the sense enjoy- 
ments. These are mainly the strong social feelings — Love 
and Affection ; the strong anti-social feelings — Anger, Egotism, 
Domination ; together with the workings of Fear. All are 
powerful from the dawn of life ; education, while connecting 
them with special objects, may do something to intensify or to 
enfeeble their total force. Fourth, the Intellect. The fun- 
damental tendencies or functions — Discrimination, Discovery 
of Agreements, Retentiveness or Memory, are at Avork from the 
first; but the active emotional development keeps them all 
down at the outset, although doing something to provide mate- 
rials that will be used on a future day. The operation of intellect 
is requisite to such complex growths as curiosity, imagination, 
dramatizing, imitation, and fancy. The higher workings of 
intellect become necessary even to the observation of facts in 
any form that deserves the name. 

The management of the Activities, the Sense Pleasures, and 
the Emotions, makes up the branch of education called Moral 
Education. As essential forces and adjuncts they are all taken 
into account in intellectual education, for which department, 
however, the principal thread must follow the growth or se- 
quence of the intellectual powers. 

The beginnings of knowledge are in activity and in pleasure, 
but the culminating point is in the power of attending to things 
in themselves indifferent. The successive stages of the process 
may be conceived as follows : — 



ACTIVITY AND THE SENSES. I79 

By common consent, the first start in knowledge is made 
through spontaneous and overflowing activity and the interest 
of the impressions of the senses ; all which, in the pristine 
freshness, afford an abounding enjoyment. At this stage, many 
things are discriminated, and from discrimination all knowledge 
begins. But then to discriminate is not aprimary vocation of 
the infant mind ; enjoyment — immediate and incessant — has the 
precedence of all other objects. In the presence of the more 
enjoyable, the less enjoyable is disregarded. Observation, 
attention, concentration, lasts so long as enjoyment lasts and no 
longer. When the interest in anything flags, something else is 
sought after. If the pain of attention is greater than the plea- 
surable excitement, the attention is withdrawn. This state of 
things is so far favourable to knowledge ; a good many objects 
ot sense are surveyed under the pressure of pleasing attraction; 
restless activity leads to many changes of view, and the search 
for excitement induces a repeated survey of the outward scene. 
Moreover, intensity of sensation, whether pleasing or not, is a 
power ; this does not win by seductive charm ; it takes the 
attention by storm. Things indifferent, and even things un- 
pleasing, leave their impress by the severity of the shock they 
give. There is an old saying, that wonder is the beginning of 
philosophy. Various things may be meant by wonder, but one 
thing is the shock of mere surprise or astonishment, irrespective 
of pleasure imparted. If the shock is painful, the mind no 
doubt rebels ; it perhaps goes off in search of some sweet obli- 
vious antidote \ but an impression has been made — an element 
of knowledge is secured. 

Before discussing the transition from the experiences that 
impress on the mind what is pleasurable, painful, and intense, 
to the impressing of those things that in themselves are indif- 
ferent and insipid, which make the larger part of our knowledge 
in the long run, I must bring up the side of activity to the same 
point as the side of passive receptivity. The active energies in 
the first instance follow the same course of adhering to what 



l80 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

gives attraction or charm ; at all events they do not lend them- 
selves to tasteless effects. The moving organs, as repeatedly 
observed, begin by being exercised under the pressure of the 
active centres, their exertion being determined and limited by 
the central energy. When the steam is expended, the action 
ceases. A certain pleasure goes along with the active expen- 
diture, but the action and the pleasure cease together, when 
the nervous and muscular discharges are no longer maintained. 
Under this prompting, the movements do nothing that is useful, 
except by accident ; they do not of their own accord fall into 
any of those combinations that serve some productive end. 
No doubt they are preparing for such combinations. We can- 
not suppose that the child moves all its limbs profusely and 
variously without both strengthening them individually, and 
enlarging their compass or sweep ; in short, bringing them up 
to the point when they can enter into groupings for useful ends. 
I am not here inquiring into the precise limits of the instinctive 
and the acquired actions of childhood. It is enough to recog- 
nize the fact that the first useful combinations are accidental ; 
the discovery of their use is the cause of their being maintained, 
continued, and ultimately fixed into habits and active capabili- 
ties. In a word, pleasure and abatement of pain are the first 
motives to acquirements in the bodily organs. The power of 
the hands to supply wants, cater for pleasures, and rebut pains, 
is the earliest manual aptitude. The motions of head, trunk, 
eyes, mouth, tongue, all come into the like service, and this is 
their earliest stage of culture. 

Of all our muscular aptitudes, the most illustrative is Arti- 
culate Language. At first purely spontaneous and emotional, it 
lends itself very speedily to our desires and purposes, and in that 
service receives the commencement of its cultivation. The tones 
that demand assistance, that express satisfaction, or the oppo- 
site, become detached from mere instinctive promptings, and 
pass into useful instruments of the various moods and wishes 
of the infant. Then comes the child's pleasure from hearing 
the sound of its own voice ; in which case it will cling by pre- 



ATTENTION TO THE INDIFFERENT. l8l 

ference to the more agreeable tones (according to its standard 
at the time). But most illustrative for our purpose is the early 
stage of imitation — the stage when it is a pleasure to reproduce 
the sounds made by others. The motive here is somewhat 
advanced and complex, and does not put forth all its power 
till a later period ; but it exemplifies that primary stage when 
nothing is done without some immediate gratification. The 
social instincts are undoubtedly very early in their appearance ; 
and one of their manifestations is the interest felt in personality 
as such, and beyond the mere utility of being fed and attended 
to. The infant soon shows a degree of engrossment with per- 
sons that transcends the supply of its primary wants, although 
involving these ; and this interest makes the charm of imitation. 
Having given voice to an articulate sound heard from others, 
the child experiences a throb of delight from the coincidence; 
and such pleasure is the early stipport and stimulus of imitation. 
It adheres to us all through, and is one of the teacher's best 
aids. Disgusted, as he often is, to have to cram tilings down 
the throats of unwilling subjects, his work is now and then 
lightened by the operation of this motive to imitate and repro- 
duce with alacrity his own special aptitude and skill. 

To come now to the second stage of culture — tlie acquisition 
of the Indifferent, both as passive impressions and as active 
power. We cannot be too thorough in our study of this critical 
transition ; it is equalled in importance, but not surpassed, by 
one other transition, namely, from the Concrete to the Abstract. 

To escape from the influence of pleasure and pain as mo- 
tives is impossible. To fall in love with and pursue the indif- 
ferent and insipid is a contradiction in terms. It is as nieajisto 
ends that things indifferent in themselves can command atten- 
tion. We may have the capability of distinguishing minute 
differences in the lengths of two rods, in the weights of two balls, 
in the curvatures of two bent bows, in the shades of two reds, 
in the pitches of two notes— but if the act gives no pleasure, 
removes no pain, excites no astonishment or violent sensation, 



1 82 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

we decline the exercise. By the first law, the prime condition, 
of all consciousness, a considerable difference has an awakening 
power, something of the nature of a surprise, and it leaves an 
impression which becomes an item of knowledge. A sharp 
change in the light of a room, a sudden rise or fall in the inten- 
sity of a sound, awakens the consciousness ; and the more deli- 
cate the sense, the smaller are the changes that impart an 
arousing shock. This is the length that we can go in impressing 
mental differences. But I apprehend that the agency of dif- 
ference, as an awakening or a shock, is very far short of our 
capability, as well as our needs, in the way of discrimination. 
Passing from one room to another ten degrees hotter or colder, 
we are aroused to the difference whether we will or not : per- 
haps five degrees might give the awakening ; but it needs the 
pressure of some special motives to attention to make us discri- 
minate (as we are able to do) a transition of one degree. 

One of the first indications of growing intelligence, of the 
contracting of fixed impressions of things around, is the dis- 
covery of circumstances attendant on what gives pleasure ; events 
and objects that precede or accompany things that are delight- 
ful in themselves. The stimulus to attention derived from 
what is agreeable operates towards these accompaniments, 
which are thereby discriminated, marked, and impressed on 
the memory. The child comes to know, not merely its food 
and its agreeables, but all that goes along with them, and all 
the prognostics of their arrival. An object of strong intrinsic 
interest irradiates its surrounding sphere, and the more so 
as the impressions of outward things harden and become co- 
herent. In this way great additions are made to the stock of 
discriminated and remembered objects ; the motive being still 
an interested one — the access of pleasure and the avoidance of 
pain. The motives continue the same, but they are intellec- 
tually extended. The wider the view of the collaterals of our 
pleasures, the wider is the influence of the stimulus to attention 
and discrimination. A very faint sound, which as pleasure is 
nothing, as a shock is unheeded, may yet betoken the arrival 



THE SENSES AT WORK ALWAYS. 1 83 

of some welcome person or some known gratification, and as 
such it is felt and noted. Slight may be the distinction to ap- 
pearance between the cup of genial slop, and the cup that is 
doctored with extraneous matters, but that slight distinction 
receives an indelible stamp. 

But now we must add another consideration that leads us a 
little further into the sphere of disinterested attention. In the 
absence of any strong interest, the active senses cannot help 
disporting themselves for a time upon what they can get. They 
will not remain longer over a dull job than they can postibly 
help ; but when they cannot do better, they will take up with 
what they find. These intervals between the stronger excite- 
ments are favourable to the noticing of unattractive objects and 
smaller distinctions. The child at first is stnick perhaps only 
with a glaring colour — a strong red or blue, or a mass of several 
shades, which it receives as a total effect. Should familiarity 
blunt the interest to the strong effect, in the absence of fresh 
attractions, the mind may re-occupy itself with the aggregate of 
colour, and be awakened to the distinctions of the shades. To 
discover a difference is not, in early years, an exciting employ- 
ment ; there is much more stimulus in the discovery of agree- 
ments : yet the exercise of the mind in bringing out any new 
effect whatever brings a reward to the childish sense of power. 
The moral of this line of remark is against pampering and 
over-exciting the infant mind. What is the vaunted joyous- 
ness of children if it does not mean that they maintain a cheer- 
ful glow on few stimulants ; that a mild interest can satisfy 
them, and leave the attention free to scan the less exciting 
features of the scene, so as to gather in the minuter distinc- 
tions that widen the basis of knowledge ? 

So far we have regarded the child as self prompted and self- 
acting, and have endeavoured to trace the expansion of the 
intellect under the motives that we suppose to be at work. In 
passing now to the artificial direction of the attention through 
the influence and dictation of others — the schooling, properly 
so called— we have the same motives at bottom, with a change 



1 84 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

in the manner of applying them : the facihties and the precau- 
tions are still the same. A demand is now made that attention 
shall be paid to a class of distinctions hitherto overlooked ; to 
the difference between two, three, and four, to varieties of shades of 
colour, of articulate sounds ; and, at last, to those most minute 
and uninteresting differences between the visible forms called 
letters. Not immediate or mediate pleasure, not startling sur- 
prise, not intrinsic attraction enough for the dullest of vacant 
moments, would procure attention to such things, and far less a 
strenuous attitude of concentration ; and there is no force avail- 
able but the s/c volo of the superior. What, then, on general 
principles, is the most expedient course, in order to be as mild, 
and yet as effective, as possible ? In the first place, the in- 
structor has to establish his or her influence on the best pos- 
sible foundations, by a hold on the child that dispenses as far 
as may be with terrorism. This we all grant. Then the natural 
workings, as manifested in the prior stage, should be so far 
attended to, that self-sustaining interests should be awakened 
when they can. This too is granted. Then comes the stern 
conclusion that the uninteresting must be faced at last ; that by 
no palliation or device are we able to make agreeable every- 
thing that has to be mastered. The age of drudgery must com- 
mence ; every motive that can avert it is in the end exhausted. 
What then? Try to measure the child's power to support the 
strain of forced attention. Use this power to the full, without 
abusing it, if you can judge the happy mean. Begin the disci- 
pline of life by inuring gradually to uninviting, to repugnant 
and severe occupation ; but see also that you have at command 
the alternative of relaxation with enjoyment. 

Let us now advert to the questions growing out of 
the order or development of the Faculties. 

At what age should education commence ? We 
commence too early, if we interfere with the powers 
needed for growth ; and even supposing this does not 
happen, we begin too early, if the desired impressions 



AGE FOR COMMENCING EDUCATION. 1 85 

demand much greater expenditure than would be neces- 
sary at a later time. On the other hand, we commence 
too late, if we allow time to pass by, when good and 
useful impressions could be made with perfect safety to 
the general health. This is just as possible a case as 
the other. 

Nothing but observation of cases will avail us here. 
We have to set aside the instances that are extreme 
either in vigour or in weakness. We know that many 
have begun to read at three years old, and have grown 
up perfectly healthy and strong. What we do not so 
well know is whether, by beginning at four or five, they 
would not have been as far advanced at fifteen as they 
are in the earlier commencement. If, however, any 
considerable number of children have begun schooling 
between three and four, without more than an occasional 
instance of observed mischief, then a year later ought 
to be a margin of safety for all but exceptional cases. 
The necessity and expediency of protracting the age of 
commencing till six or seven cannot be made out. There 
ought to be proof positive that in such belated instances 
the child advances with a rapidity that carries all be- 
fore it. 

At what time should we begin the mechanical train- 
ing of the hands, the training of the voice, the training 
of the eyes in observing forms and colours ? We here 
proceed upon a natural spontaneity, which needs directing 
and coercing ; the coercion being more or less painful 
in itself, and palatable only by the interest evoked. 

A further question relates to the priority of different 
classes of acquisitions, as to their time of commencement : 
as Language, Knowledge of Things, Mechanical Apti- 



1 86 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

tudes, Moral Impressions. When is the child prepared 
to take up these several departments without a strain 
beyond its years } In all the kinds, there is the spon- 
taneous, or self-moved commencement, followed by the 
gradual attempt to direct it into definite channels. The 
rule seems to be that activity is always prior ; and accord- 
ing as an acquisition has an active element, it comes in 
earlier, regard being paid to the state of advancement of 
the special organs. Language (spoken) seems the most 
precocious of all acquirements ; being usually in advance 
of the manual capabilities. 

The activity of the eye is also very early, and the 
cognition of visible movements, magnitudes, forms, and 
of all the space relations, proceeds rapidly. This is the 
stage of spontaneous observation, and of impressions in 
the concrete ; and is the necessary grounding for the 
artificial education in things. The pre-school education 
consists in developing the articulate capacity, in culti- 
vating an interested observation of surrounding persons 
and things, and in connecting names with these various 
objects. The further these three branches have gone, 
the better is the child fitted for the more methodical 
instruction of the school. 

The next point to be considered relates to the age 
when Memory is at its best, and when acquisitions 
in pure memory take precedence of others. This applies 
to the problem of Languages as against Science, that is, 
knowledge more or less generalized, reasoned, and con- 
nected. Now, it seems evident that for the years be- 
tween six and ten very little can be done that involves 
severe processes of the reason ; and yet the mind is 
highly plastic and susceptible ; so that presumably this 



THE LATER ACQUIREMENTS. 18/ 

is the age of the maximum of pure memory, as typified 
by Language acquisitions, not merely vocables and their 
connections with things, but connected compositions, as 
stories, hymns, and the expressed forms of knowledge. 

The easier kinds of matter of fact, where generali- 
zation is carried merely to the length of increasing the 
interest and lightening the memory, such as geographi- 
cal particulars and plain narratives, appeal more to the 
memory than to any higher power, and belong to the 
years that I am supposing. 

That the harder sciences, as Grammar, Arithmetic, 
and Mechanics, should be later in being understood is 
owing, not solely to the necessity of pre-storing the 
mind with instances in the concrete, but also to a defect 
in the power of compelling the attention to perform the 
necessary junctions and disjunctions of ideas ; which 
power must be dependent upon age, in the first instance, 
although it is susceptible of being forced on by the efforts 
of the teacher. Usually, however, the premature bringing 
forward of these subjects ends in their being taken up 
in the memory alone, which can be induced at the early 
age to embrace even unmeaning statements. At the 
height of the mental plasticity, which may be from seven 
to eleven, interest, although aiding, is not essential ; the 
consciousness of the power is enough to make it not a 
drudgery. 

It is customary among the higher ranks of society 
to make use of this early plasticity in laying the foun- 
dations of foreign languages, as French and German. 
This is so far good ; but one can easily conceive the 
practice of memory-stuffing carried too far. While 
using the moment of greatest adhesiveness, wc should 



1 88 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

also be doing something to bring forward the reasoning 
power, in a slow and gradual way. The 'Age of Reason' 
should on no account be thrown back, any more than 
it should be precipitated. The faculties should not be 
absorbed by huge tasks of committal to memory of 
mere words ; even the conceptive power of embracing 
the concrete meanings may be stifled in this way, and 
the chances of the reasoning faculty be thus doubly 
impaired. 

It is specially interesting to view this plastic moment 
with reference to moral impressions. Commands, maxims, 
verbal directions are all well laid up in the memory ; 
even the more difficult doctrines of religion may find a 
lifelong lodgment by being iterated between six and 
ten. All this, however, is external to conduct. We 
must look at the dispositions to obedience, the culture 
of the affections and sympathies, and the foresight of 
remote consequences. Now, as regards obedience, the 
discipline of fear may do much, because of the weakness 
and susceptibility of the subject. The other elements 
are more difficult to command ; and the chief question 
is, whether this plastic period is favourable to pleasurable 
associations, assuming that the child is well supplied 
with things agreeable. I should be disposed to answer 
in the affirmative ; remarking only that this is a very 
costly acquisition, and may not, in ordinary cases, make 
much apparent way in the course of two or three years. 
These associations, however, rest on the same basis as 
the moral affections and sympathies. 

As to the foresight of consequences, that is a very 
tardy affair. It needs a high development of the conceiv- 



FORESIGHT OF CONSEQUENCES. 1 89 

ing power, together with a class of associations rendered 
very difficult by the strength they must have attained 
before they answer their purpose. The opposition to 
encounter in the furious impulses of those early years is 
the measure of the strength of this association. 



10 



CHAPTER VII. 

SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS-LOGICAL. 

The previous chapter is intended to clear the problem 
relating to sequence by allowing for the development 
of the powers and faculties irrespective of the impres- 
sions that are received. We must now view the order 
of the impressions themselves, according to their logical 
dependence. 

Thus, take the case of Language, The sequence 
consists (i) in the articulation of syllables, (2) in form- 
ing syllables into words, and (3) in uniting words into 
consecutive speech. So, with our conceptions of the con- 
crete world, there is the same plain course : we proceed 
from elementary forms, colours, objects, views, to binary, 
ternary, and higher combinations of these. There is no 
break, or abrupt transition, at any one point. In the 
mechanical arts it is the same. Our state of develop- 
ment settles the time for beginning; when once begun 
the course follows the law of analytic progress. There 
may be an error committed in trying to go too fast ; 
which simply means that we are taking a new step with- 
out having matured the one previous ; the remedy is ob- 
vious, it is not to wait on faculty but to ply exercises. 

In machinery we proceed from the constituent parts 
to the whole. So, the Anatomist, in describing the 



CONCRETE TO ABSTRACT. I9I 

human body, commences with the bony foundations, 
and then goes on to the muscles, viscera, &c. 

If there be any exception to this steady progress, it 
is to be found in the momentous transition from the 
concrete to the abstract, from the particular to the 
general. It is partly true that by the preparation of 
particulars we advance to generals, but there is not the 
same imperceptible transition, or unbroken continuity, as 
in proceeding from syllables to words, from a tree to a 
wood, from an easy air to one slightly more difficult. 
There is a certain jump in passing out of the life in 
particulars to the life in generalities ; we feel ourselves 
taken up into a new sphere ; we are called upon to 
exercise a new kind of faculty. 

For this novel effect there must be a distinct phase 
of brain-development, and, therefore, a certain age at- 
tained, irrespective of the amount of preparatory im- 
pressions. The law of logical sequence merely includes 
the fact, that the concrete must precede and the abstract 
follow : there is, however, much else to be considered. 
Seeing that a vast compass of educational method and 
procedure is regulated by the transition, its minute con- 
ditions and circumstances need to be unfolded once for 
all. 

We may and do proceed with the classing operation, 
from the very first, and without break or interruption. 
The child discriminates and identifies ; when it has 
identified a number of things of the same kind — chairs, 
spoons, fires, dogs, human beings — it has formed classes ; 
it has attained generality together with particularity. 
Yet these classings do not amount to Abstractions. 



192 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

They do not proceed far enough to bring out the diffi- 
culties of the generaHzing operations. Many classes are 
formed that are but one stage removed from the particu- 
lars : water, food, toys, lights, trees, horses ; over all the 
region of experience these short leaps are made from 
an early period ; while there is little progress anywhere 
towards the higher flights. 

It is for such ulterior flights that a certain maturity 
of mind is needful ; a particular moment of advancing 
strength, when the conceptions can be carried to the se- 
cond and higher degrees of generality. This is the stage 
when we must be prepared to handle symbols, to pass 
from sense perceptions to abstract conceptions ; when 
we can manipulate numbers and forms, having no ap- 
parent reference to particulars at all. 

Without much prompting, the child goes on accu- 
mulating classes of the first degree, and would go on to 
the end of life in the same course. It is only by ex- 
press teaching that it climbs to the higher degrees— to 
take cognizance of a piece of furniture, a tool, a quad- 
ruped, a sum, a sensation, a society ; and a very large 
part of teaching is occupied with this work. It comes 
up in season and out of season ; and the teacher's 
resources should always be equal to it ; and at any rate 
he should know whether or not it is within his compe- 
tence at the time. He cannot be too well informed as to 
the conditions of success in explaining and impressing a 
generality. Indeed, this is the central fact or essence of 
Exposition, properly so called. 

It is, I repeat, universally admitted that, for a General 
or Abstract Notion, the essential preparation is the Par- 
ticulars. But a great deal has to be taken into account 



THE ABSTRACT NOTION. 193 

besides this obvious fact. The mere presence of the 
particulars does not suffice to evoke the generality. The 
number and the character of these must also be taken 
into the account : they may be too few, or they may be 
too many ; they may even have the effect of obstructing 
the growth of the general idea. 

I. In regard to the Selection of Particulars. This 
must be such as to show all the extreme varieties. 
Identical instances are not to be accumulated ; they 
merely burden the mind : varying instances are necessary 
to show the quality under every combination. To bring 
home the abstract property of Roundness, or the circle, 
we must present concrete examples in varying size, 
colour, material, situation, and circumstances. To ex- 
plain a Building, we must cite instances of buildings for 
all kinds of uses. 

The best instances to begin with are those that 
show the main idea in prominence, and the adjuncts in 
abeyance. We cannot command a circle in the abstract, 
as Plato imagined ; and we cannot present one in the 
concrete without size ; but we can reduce the material 
to a thin black line on a white ground. Two or three 
such of different sizes, with one made of white on black 
ground, and one in some other colour, would eliminate 
everything but the single fact of form ; this is as near to 
abstracting the property as the case admits of If, on 
the other hand, we had proceeded from examples where 
the adjuncts are overpowering or interesting in them- 
selves, attention would not have been gained to the 
form. The sun at noonday, the horizon viewed at sea, 
the circle at Stonehenge, — would be a very unsuitable 
selection for teaching the notion ; although after it is 



194 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— LOGICAL. 

otherwise gained, there is no difficulty in discerning it 
in these instances. 

2. The Placing of the instances should be such as to 
bring out the agreements. If the objects are material 
they should be similarly and symmetrically situated to 
the eye. The comparison of numbers, as three, four, 
five, should be in rows side by side to begin with. Cones 
and pyramids are shown to the eye resting regularly on 
their base. Vegetable and animal forms are symmetri- 
cally placed for comparison. This is the method required 
alike for agreement and for difference. 

In verbally described facts, the parallelism of the 
forms of language is a well-known device of rhetoric. 

3. The Accumulation should be continuous, until the 
effect is produced. When we are bent upon driving 
home a new generality, we should put everything else 
aside for the time ; we should suffer no interruptions or 
distraction. We are to accumulate instances of the 
proper kind, and in the best order, until all disparities 
are sunk beneath the pressure of the agreement. The 
Theban Phalanx is the type of exposition for the gene- 
ral notion or abstract idea ; an overwhelming concentra- 
tion at one point. 

Many of our abstractions are gained by scattered 
impressions, here a little and there a little. This is our 
chance education, which, if least effective, is no doubt 
least fatiguing. Whatever is gathered in this way is to 
be accepted ; but the schoolmaster is not to repeat the 
desultory circumstance in an express lesson. When he 
enters upon an exposition, his business is to make it 
continuous and thorough. If the pupils are ripe for 
comprehending the notion of Inertness, a serie3 of 



PARTICULARS AND CONTRAST. 195 

examples should be arranged to make the general fact 
patent in spite of all disparities of accompanying cir- 
cumstances. 

It is the duty of the teacher to bring all the instances 
to bear upon the discovery of agreement. Any instance 
that is perplexing in itself will interrupt the general 
harmony. Still more will an instance that has a strong 
individual interest be an obstacle to the general im- 
pression. This is not sufficiently considered in exposi- 
tion. Very interesting examples are sought with a view 
to engage the attention ; they may succeed, but not in 
the way desired. Instead of leading the mind on to the 
abstract idea, they induce it to cling to themselves in 
their concrete or individual character.^ 

Contrast is an ever ready resource, and shortens the 
labour by excluding at once the notions liable to be 
confounded with what is meant. To drive home the 
idea of a circle we place beside it an oval. Along with 
groups of objects intended to give the abstract number 
four, we place a group of three and a group of five. 
White and Black are shown together. To explain more 
fully what luxury means, we adduce examples of sim- 
plicity and plainness of manners. The habit of assign- 
ing contrasts or opposites needs to co -exist in the mind 

' In Macaulay's brilliant speeches on the Reform Bill, he urged, with 
unrivalled affluence of illustration, the growth and expansion of Great 
Britain, as necessitating changes in our institutions. His examples are 
numerous and telling, but also occasionally so gorgeous as to distract the 
mind from the general purpose by creating an interest for themselves. 
' Who can say that a hundred years hence there may not be, on the shore 
of some desolate and silent bay of the Hebrides, another Liverpool, with 
its docks and warehouses and endless forests of masts ? Who can say that 
the huge chimneys of another Manchester may not rise in the wilds of 
Connemara ? ' 



196 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— LOGICAL. 

of every instructor with the habit of quoting examples 
or particulars. 

4. The natural inability to take interest in generali- 
ties, and the preference felt for the individual concrete, 
being the great obstructions to attaining general notions, 
we should clearly comprehend the counter forces in 
their favour. These are — first, the Flash of Agree- 
ment. 

When among things that have formerly been re- 
garded as distinct, there is a sudden flash of agreement, 
the mind is arrested and pleased ; and the discovery 
makes one great element of intellectual interest, not 
only reconciling us to the general and the abstract, but, 
in the higher instances, imparting a positive charm. The 
disparity of the instances, and the previous labour of 
the mind in keeping hold of them, contribute to the 
elation of the discovery. 

5. The other mode of overcoming the reluctance to 
pass from the interest of individuality to abstract no- 
tions, is the tracing of Cause and Effect in the world. 
The notion of cause and effect, the crowning notion 
of science, is one of the first to dawn upon the infant 
mind. The simplest movements are attended with 
discernible consequences : the fall of a chair with a 
noise ; the taking of food with gratification. These 
instances are the beginnings of the knowledge of causes ; 
and they are viewed correctly from the first. Now when 
any agent produces an apparent change or effect, it 
operates by only one of the many properties that it 
possesses as a concrete object, A chair has form to the 
eye, resistance to the hand, noise to the ear ; and as 
these effects are seen in their separate workings, they 



FINAL CHARACTER OF THE GENERAL NOTION. 1 97 

lead on to analysis or abstraction of the properties 
causing them. It is by the separation of eft'ects that 
we conic, in the first instance, to know weight as a pro- 
perty of things, and are able to regard the weight of a 
chair as a distinct property, owned in common with other 
objects. But for this experimenting on effects, we might 
not so soon or so readily depart from the collective in- 
dividuality of things. The child knows what a seat in 
general is, by sitting first in its own chair and then 
on other chairs or on foot-stools ; by this experience it 
works its way to a notion of considerable generality. 

6. For retaining a generality in the mind, the best 
way is to possess a good representation of particular in- 
stances. It depends on the character of the notion 
whether few or many are wanted. Very few are needed 
for a simple form — for weight, liquidity, transparency. 
For a metal, a plant, a tree, a bird, an article of food, a 
force, a society — a good many are wanted. 

7. It is assumed throughout that the name is given 
along with the general notion ; to this, at the proper 
time, is added the Definition, which co-operates with the 
representative particulars in giving the mind a hold on 
the notion. The definition assigns some simpler notions, 
supposed to be already possessed ; and it succeeds accord- 
ing as this supposition is correct. Thus then we have, 
as regards the circle, for example, (i) the representa- 
tive instances, (2) the name ; (3) the words of Euclid's 
definition. The cluster so made up is our fully equipped 
notion of the circle. 

In cases where a notion is formed out of other no- 
tions already grasped, the definition is a full and suffic- 
ing explanation, dispensing with its own particulars. 



198 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

This happens in Mathematics, when the mind is so well 
advanced as to be familiar with the elementary notions 
of number, equality, line, angle, plane, curve. It is a 
mere waste of time to dwell, at this stage, upon par- 
ticular examples of triangle, square, polygon, circle, 
sphere. 

In the ordinary course of miscellaneous teaching, a 
mixture of the two methods is unconsciously followed. 
A teacher in explaining 'kingdom' would both adduce 
individual kingdoms, as England, Germany, &c., and 
also define by language a kingdom as a people living to- 
gether under one king. Most usually, perhaps, the defi- 
nition is given first, and the particulars afterwards as 
examples. A river is defined — 'a stream of water 
gathered by numerous rills from the high grounds and 
collected into one channel by which it flows to the 
sea.' The examples brought forward would explain the 
different parts of the definition. 

So much for the great transition from the Concrete to 
the Abstract. The Analytical or Logical Sequence of 
teaching comprises the following distinct heads : — 

First, and most obvious of all — from the Simple to 
the Complex. 

Second — from the Particular to the General and 
Abstract. 

These two must be regarded as fundamental, and 
almost exhaustive. There are, however, several im 
portant aspects of them that deserve to be signalized 
as if they were distinct cases. 

Third — from the Indefinite to the Definite, or per- 
haps better, from the Unqualified to the Qualified. 



HEADS OF LOGICAL SEQUENCE. 199 

We may be told a fact, in the first instance, in a 
vague, indefinite, unqualified form, as that all bodies 
fall to the ground : our next step is to learn it in its cir- 
cumstantials and qualifications — the oblique descent 
of water in rivers, the rise of smoke, the belching up of 
volcanoes. The pupil in Astronomy is first told that the 
Sun is at rest in the centre of the system, while the 
planets move round it in circles. At a later stage, the 
circle is changed into an ellipse, with the sun in one 
of the foci. Then, the exact centre is shown to be the 
centre of gravity of the sun and all the planets. The 
withholding of important qualifications at the early 
stages is an accommodation to the pupil's capacity ; it 
can hardly be avoided, yet it needs management so as 
not to instil untruth. 

Fourth — from the Empirical to the Rational or 
Scientific. This is really a mode of the transition from 
the Concrete to the Abstract ; yet it deserves an explicit 
consideration ; it marks with emphasis the arrival of the 
' Age of Reason.' 

Empirical knowledge is good and sufficient for many 
of the purposes of knowledge ; it may be all that is to 
be got on a given subject at any one time. Yet, seeing 
that much of our knowledge in the present day has 
attained the rank of scientific explanation, the pupil has 
ultimately to be put in possession of this higher form ; 
although, for a time, he may have to dwell in the lower 
region of the empirical. We first know day and night, 
summer and winter, the rise of the tides, the snow upon 
the tops of mountains, the falling of dew, the occurrence 
of storms, the dependence of vegetation on heat and on 
moisture, — as empirical. Our knowledge in this form 



200 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

may be on the whole very correct ; our forefathers had 
nothing better to go by. And, in the empirical character, 
it suits an earlier stage of our education ; we can under- 
stand a fact, as a fact, when we are incapable of com- 
prehending the reason. Hence this is put down as one 
of the sequences or transitions in our progress. Neverthe- 
less, it is essentially the transition from the concrete to the 
abstract : the reason of a thing is but a higher generality, 
into which it is resolved : the reason of the fall of bodies 
is universal gravitation ; of combustion, chemical union. 

If anyone were to arrive at the maturity of intelli- 
gence, while still ignorant of a whole department of 
natural facts, such as Geology, the commencing with 
the empirical statement would be unnecessary. The 
concrete facts, in that case, might be given as scientific 
deductions from the laws, instead of being learnt in a 
provisional or passing shape. This method has its ad- 
vantages. Many a one never knows the simplest pro- 
perties of the triangle, parallelogram, or circle, until they 
are learnt in a course of geometry. 

Fifth. In the culture of the power of Conceiving, 
the analytical order needs to be strictly followed. We 
must be familiar with the constituent colours and forms 
before we can cor.ceive a new combination of them. We 
must know a marble surface and the cylindrical form, 
in order to conceive a marble cylinder. We must have 
seen numerous carriage-wheels, and have acquired the 
impression of gold, before we can conceive a gold wheel. 

Sixth. We proceed from Outline to Details. This 
is the great maxim of the describing art, as in Geo- 
graphy. It applies to History also, although with a 
qualification. 



MERELY APPARENT SEQUENCE. 20I 

Seventh. As a general rule, we proceed from the 
Corporeal to the Incorporeal, from the Physical to the 
Mental. The physical world is soonest understood ; yet 
from the very beginning we have some knowledge of 
the mental world ; we learn to mark our own pleasurable 
and painful sensations, to enter into the pleasures and 
pains and passions of those about us. Our earliest 
literary interest supposes this power ; it is the basis of 
sensation narrative. 

Such are the leading circumstances implied in 
logical or analytical sequence ; and if they could be 
followed strictly, the march of education would be clear. 
The reality is far otherwise. Many obstacles inter- 
vene, and it is well that we should be aware of these, 
that we may see how to evade or overcome them when 
possible. 

To clear the way, we need to mark certain cases 
where Sequence does not necessarily apply. 

I. The existence of Correlatives must be allowed 
for. Correlatives must be known together ; and al- 
though one is stated in advance of the other, the in- 
tended impression is not made till both are received. 
The strongest instance of this is the correlation of 
the Particulars and the General. One must be first, but 
both must concur before we have the meaning. The 
General is not understood without the Particulars ; 
the Particulars are nothing until they yield up the 
General. It is supposed that the Particulars must ne- 
cessarily precede : this is not essential ; the generals may 
precede, and be held in suspense until the particulars 
are given. The order does not depisnd upon the fact 



202 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— LOGICAL. 

of correlation ; for neither term is intelligible without 
the other ; the meaning is a mutual embrace of two 
factors. It is true that the mind must have a certain 
familiarity with concrete things before rising to the 
stage of generalities and abstractions ; but, at that stage, 
the things are not known as particulars fitting into a 
notion or a general law. They are known in some 
different way, and have to be directed to the new pur- 
pose. The child knows weights, but does not know 
them as examples of general gravity ; does not see 
through them to Newton's law of gravitation. When 
this law comes to be taught, the particulars must be 
adduced on one side, and the general expression on the 
other, and, by the happy coalescence of the two, the law 
of gravity becomes apparent. But whether the in- 
stances should be given first, or the formulse first and 
the instances afterwards, is not always fixed. It may 
be the shortest way of teaching in many subjects to 
give the generality first and the instances next ; the 
effect being suspended till both have come together. 
If the generality is not cumbrous or prolix ; if it does 
not involve a long series of abstract phrases, unillumi- 
nated by particulars ;— then, the best course might be to 
deposit it in the memory, for a little time, as an unmean- 
ing formula, to be forthwith irradiated by the examples. 
In this way, the examples themselves are net kept wait- 
ing ; the generality is already there, and they have to 
fall in under it. 

In the description of visible objects. Size, Form, and 
Colour must be given, but there is no natural priority. 
The mind usually waits till it learns them all. 'A black 
ball, a foot in diameter,' presents the three elements in 



CORRELATIVES. 203 

the order — colour, form, size ; which is as good as any 
other order, but not better. 

In the various notions relating to Society, we have 
the same correlations, the same suspense of meaning 
till the correlations are adduced. A State implicates 
Ruler and Subject ; neither is understood until both 
are explained. The order is immaterial. 

In the Physical Sciences, also, mutuality of action 
is the rule. In the communication of force there are 
always two parties, the giver and the receiver, and one 
must be mentioned first ; yet until the other is also men- 
tioned, the fact is not complete. 

Thus, then, provision must be made in the expository 
arts for bringing together correlatives in the way best 
suited to the several cases. The case is no real excep- 
tion to the law of logical sequence. 

2. The mixing of notions of different degrees of ad- 
vancement and difficulty, is a thing that cannot always.be 
avoided. An explanation should contain only matters 
already understood ; but fully to adhere to this in the 
early stages is next to impossible. There must be mental 
blanks corresponding to many of the names presented 
to the young mind ; sometimes, to a degree fatal to the 
understanding of what is brought forward ; sometimes, 
permitting of a partial understanding, enough to be a 
stepping-stone to something farther, and in time to the 
complete knowledge of what is at present incompletely 
known. Although unavoidable, this is still an evil ; and 
should be kept within the narrowest possible limits. 
Until all subjects can be composed on one level of 
intelligibility, and every subject have its proper order 
in the line of studies ; and until no pupil be ever in- 



204 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

trodnced to the higher without sufficient mastery of 
the lower, there will be these blank spots in the minds 
of learners ; the intellectual comprehension will be ar- 
rested every now and then from the want of some essen- 
tial piece of knowledge. 

In all subjects there must come up at the threshold 
names that cannot be adequately understood until the 
pupil has made some progress. A vague provisional sur- 
mise is the only thing possible ; perhaps the whole field 
of view is darkened in the meantime ; and yet it may be 
competent to go forward with simply glimpses of mean- 
ing. Partly by proceeding, in spite of defective insight, 
partly by going back to a fresh start, the various notions 
come to one another's aid ; what was dark grows clear. 

It is in scientific or rational explanation, that is to 
say, science, properly so called, that the breach of se- 
quence is most felt. When we are gathering in promis- 
cuous facts, objects, impressions, without any attempt 
to explain, class, or reconcile them, we are not bound to 
any order. Whether we see a waterfall or a windmill 
first does not signify. So when our education consists 
chiefly in learning names, there is little that can be 
called sequence. Further, between one story and another 
story, one poem and another poem, there may be no 
priority assignable. 

As a great part of early teaching is avowedly desul- 
tory, empirical, matter-of-fact, preparatory, — the order 
of presentation seems of little moment. The preference 
is determined by opportunity, and by the awakened in- 
terest of the pupils. Objects are impressed in the mind 
at the time when they are advantageously brought 
forward; whether in school or out of school. But the 



MIXTURE OF UNEQUAL STAGES. 20$ 

teacher should thoroughly understand the level that he 
is working at ; he should not obtrude the connecting 
doctrines that make the knowledge scientific. The mo- 
ment he aims at this, his situation is entirely altered ; 
he must now chalk out a scientific scheme and follow 
it in rigid order. 

Stories, poetry, histories, descriptions of travels, of 
places, of animals, are very mixed in their nature ; the 
less intelligible and the more intelligible go side by side. 
The child picks up the crumbs of meaning and of interest 
that suit its advancement, and leaves the rest. There is 
no reason, however, why the effort should not be made 
to keep the whole composition to one level. 

3. The gratification of the feelings interferes at this 
point, as at so many others. There may be enough in 
a composition to give pleasure, without its being under- 
stood. The mere form of poetry, the jingle of verse, 
has this effect : the melody of the words concurring. So 
there may be touches that bring out emotion, on a 
slender basis of understanding. Poetry serves this 
end ; likewise the unction of religious and moral senti- 
ments. 

4. Impatience to advance to matters of interest may 
make us hurry over intermediate and preparatory mat- 
ters, or proceed without these. This is an effect of soli- 
tary study ; one of the uses of the public teacher is to 
stem the tendency, When left to ourselves we do not 
always see what necessarily lies between us and the 
goal we are aiming at. 

5. The langnage memory, which is at its height some- 
what prior to the maturity of the abstractive power, 
carries a great many things in the unmeaning state ; and 



2o6 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

the more we are endowed with it, the farther we can go 
in dispensing with the full comprehension of what we 
are laying up. It is often said that a knowledge of 
meaning, in the shape of cause and effect, or other ra- 
tional relationship, is the best aid to retentiveness ; but 
this is conditional. A good language memory dispenses 
with all that. 

We avail ourselves of the language stage of the 
mind to forge adhesive links that are not so easy after- 
wards. Principles, maxims, theorems," formulas, defini- 
tions, that need to obtain a firm place in the memory, 
may be given a little in advance of their being fully 
understood. The licence must not be abused. For 
one thing, the memory will not receive them, if they 
are. wholly devoid of interest; there must be something 
either in the form of the words, or in the substance, to 
engage the feelings, otherwise the anticipation is no 
economy. Rules in verse have this advantage. A 
scientific formula may have a certain pomp of lan- 
guage that impresses before it is understood. If the 
subject affects the emotions, a faint glimmer of meaning 
is enough ; or one part understood may buoy up a good 
deal that is not. 

Pithy antithetic forms are easily committed in ad- 
vance of the understanding of them. 'A line is length 
without breadth,' is very abstruse in meaning, but very 
easy to carry in the memory. 'All liquids seek their 
level,' by dint of shortness and personification, ob- 
tains an easy access to our stock of remembered forms. 
The proverbial saws that we are accustomed to hear, 
are stamped on the recollection long previously to our 
being able to comprehend them. A long, prolix, un- 



■ DETACHED PROPOSITIONS. 20/ 

melodious, dry, and unintelligible statement might be 
committed through the urgency of the schoolmaster ; 
but, however valuable it might be, in the day when it 
is fully revealed, there would be little gained by the 
process. 

6. It is possible in the subjects that most depend on 
connection, to pick up detached propositions with their 
illustrations, and to hold them with a certain amount of 
understanding. This is, in fact, to repeat the empirical 
stage, after we are embarked in the rational or scientific 
career. A great many minds find themselves unable to 
keep up with the consecutive strain of a demonstrative 
science, and yet seize hold of portions of the reason- 
ing, such as to pass muster in examinations ; being only 
thrown out when called upon to reason from the com- 
mencement. 

Like retaining knowledge by the mere language 
memory, this is a very insufficient mode of learning, 
and ends in the possession of scraps, without system or 
method, and without that reproducing power that a 
deductive science gives when once fully mastered. 

7. It is not a breach of sequence to cull precepts from 
differetit sciences, and apply them to practice. The 
rules of Arithmetic can be put in operation without 
the reasons. This is still the empirical stage, where no 
sequence is observed. Provided only the terms of the 
rules are understood, we can carry them out in practice, 
while ignorant of the general subject, and wholly unable 
to give the reasons for them. In certain cases the work- 
ing of the rules is not affected by ignorance of the 
sciences that they spring from ; it is only in the higher 
arts, as Mechanics, Engineering, Medicine, Statecraft, 



2o8 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

that the practitioner is to any great degree dependent 
upon a knowledge of principles and reasons. 

8. The ciiltivaticn of distinct oj'gans or faculties may 
proceed without any fixed sequence. There is no settled 
order as between Colour, Form, and Number. Singing 
neither precedes nor follows Drawing ; the culture of the 
singing voice scarcely depends on the articulate voice. 
The elegances of tone and manner in speaking can be 
given at any age : the only rule is to take the organs 
while plastic, and before they have contracted a wrong 
set. So with carriage and deportment ; with dancing 
and gymnastic training ; with manual aptitude. Again, 
moral training is not wholly dependent on knowledge 
and intelligence ; obedience and affection may take an 
independent start. The morality that rests on reasons 
and consequences must wait till these are understood, 
and is much later. Finally, there is no essential priority 
in the teaching of different languages ; some slight ad- 
vantage is gained by taking Latin prior to the modern 
languages derived from it ; but as between German and 
Latin, there is no certain order. 

The power of Reading is not essential to information 
in things. Knowledge may be communicated to any 
extent orally. The proper time for beginning book ac- 
quirement is a matter for consideration and adjustment. 
Even long after a child can read, it is unable to extract 
much information from books. 

9. The knowledge of language and the knotvledge of 
things should proceed together. Yet the pace of the 
two is not necessarily the same ; one may go faster 
than the other. The knowledge of things growing out 
of personal and solitary observation does not carry 



LANGUAGE AND INFORMATION. 209 

language with it. Communicated knowledge supposes 
language ; still the attention may not be equally directed 
to the facts and the expressions. Language may go 
on while knowledge is almost stationary ; that is to say, 
the pupil's facility in expressing the same things may 
be steadily improving. There is not a single fact but 
admits of half a dozen ways of being stated. Thus 
while language cannot be separated from things, it may 
be carried forward irrespective of any notable advances 
in knowledge ; and the same may be said of knowledge 
with regard to language. The mere preferoice of at- 
tention to one of the two members of a connected couple 
pushes forward the familiarity with that member, while 
the other is scarcely advancing at all. The effect is 
illustrated by the difference of the two kinds of minds 
— the language mind and the reality mind. A man 
cannot have the power of language, without things to 
apply it to ; but his fulness of expression may be out of 
proportion to his knowledge of the things expressed. 

DOUBTFUL CASES OF SEQUENCE. 

In the common routine of education, there is an or- 
der that may not be violated. The different stages of 
reading and of writing cannot be transposed. In all the 
mechanical arts, certain simple movements have to be 
mastered, and are then conjoined in more complicated 
operations. There may occasionally be a little doubt as 
to which of several movements should be first ; it may 
want a subtle analysis to decide which is the most ele- 
mentary of two acts ; as whether straight strokes or pot- 
hooks are the best commencing exercise in writing. 

In regard to Arithmetic, the only question is the 



2IO SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— LOGICAL. 

order of the Empirical and the Rational stages. In the 
newer methods of teaching, what used to be purely em- 
pirical, mechanical, or memory by rote — as the addi- 
tion sums and the multiplication table — is now made 
to a certain extent rational from the beginning. That 
is to say, by concrete examples, it is shown how 4 and 
5 make 9, and 3 times 7, 21 ; and on the basis of 
the concrete illustrations, the equivalent sums and 
products are fixed in the memory. Still, this does not 
amount to Rational Arithmetic ; it goes a little way, 
but not far. Children can with difficulty rationalize 
vulgar and decimal fractions ; and hardly at all the rule 
of three. The memory for the Tables, and for the ma- 
nipulating of fractions, advances much faster than the 
comprehension of the reasons ; and it is not desirable 
to face these at the age when they are not readily 
intelligible. There is plenty of interest in the operations 
without the comprehending of the scheme of mathe- 
matical demonstration ; the ability to work out the pre- 
scribed exercises brings its own reward. 

In certain respects this knowledge is highly scien- 
tific ; the terms are all clearly conceived, the directions 
precisely followed, and the results accurately arrived at. 
There is nothing slipshod, no vagueness to be corrected, 
nothing to be unlearned. The theory, rationale, or de- 
monstrative connection of the steps is alone wanting ; 
and that is a later acquirement. 

There is no exact parallelism between Arithmetic 
and Grammar, and no motive for priority, one over 
the other. Grammar has only in a very vague form the 
division into two stages, each perfect after its own 
kind. The order of grammatical teaching given in the 



SEQUENCE IN GRAMMAR, 2 1 I 

Standards of our ' Code,' does not represent the real 
sequence of study. In the Examination in Standard II., 
' the scholar is to point oat the nouns in the passage 
read;' in Standard III., have to be pointed out 'the 
nouns, adjectives, and adverbs ; ' in Standard IV., are 
required the parts of speech at large; in Standard V., 
elementary analysis of simple sentences ; in Standard 
VI., grammatical analysis in general. 

The spreading of the Parts of Speech over three 
years appears a most arbitrary proceeding. The assump- 
tions underlying it — namely, that the child can compre- 
hend the Noun a year sooner than it can the Adjective 
and Verb, and these a year before the Pronoun, Prepo- 
sition, and Conjunction — are not based on any facts or 
reasons. The Pronoun can be taught as soon as the 
Noun is understood ; and the Verb, Adverb, and Prepo- 
sition are all linked together. Moreover, if the Parts of 
Speech are to be properly taught, the Analysis of Sen- 
tences should come for^vard at the very beginning. 

Again, as the Parts of Speech must be all under- 
stood before any grammatical rule can be given, or any 
error be corrected on grammatical principles, there is, 
on the above plan, an enormous suspension of the prac- 
tical interest of the subject. For two years, at least, all 
is barren. This circumstance alone is a great waste of 
power. In Arithmetic, the fruits of the teaching are 
reaped almost from the commencement ; questions are 
worked, and applications made such as the pupil can 
feel humanly interested in.' 

' English Grammar has been passing through a revoUition in the course 
of the last thirty years ; the definitions of the Parts of Speech have been 
vitally changed. I have dwelt upon this subject in another place (see 



212 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— LOGICAL. 

As regards sequence in learning the mother tongue, 
there is no particular order in the vocables themselves : 
these arise with the occasions, and with the subject- 
matter or things. The grammatical or structural part 
is learned at first by hearing and repeating connected 
sentences. If those are obtained from correct models, 
the child learns correct speaking at once ; and may 
master all but the most delicate refinements of speech 
without any grammar or scholastic teaching. Every- 
thing is learnt empirically ; reasons are neither given 
nor sought, being for the most part unnecessary. 

The ordinary English teacher has to deal with pupils 
in every way deficient as regards the power of speaking 
English. Not to mention that their information is in a 
backward state, and with that the language suitable for 
conveying it, pupils express what they know badly; they 
have not either number or choice of words, they have 
not a command of sentence arrangements ; their forms 
of expression are positively bad, whether as grammar 
or as idiom. If they could be made to understand the 
grammatical science, that might be the shortest way to 
their improvement. But the work of education is com- 
menced long before this is possible, and they must be 
instructed empirically, the reasons being delayed for 
several years. It is absurd to suppose that the know- 

Compattion to the Higher Grammar). The old definitions rendered the 
science profoundly illogical, and but little suited to its main purpose. 

I do not believe that Grammar in any shape can be a scientific or 
logical discipline. I doubt if there be any practical science (except Logic 
itself) that can impart a training beyond its own purpose ; and Grammar is 
not an exception, although attempts are made to render it such. I have 
given the reasons very fully in an article on ' Teaching English ' in the 
Fortnightly Review, for August, 1869. 



GRAMMAR AN ADVANCED STUDY. 213 

ledge (if such it could be called) of three out of the seven 
parts of speech could make a basis for approaching the 
scientific explanation of good grammar. In the reading 
exercises, in the teacher's spoken address, the pupils hear 
proper and correct language, as well as choice and effec- 
tive language. In their own answers, they perpetually 
fall short both in grammar and in other merits ; and 
they are to be corrected on the occasion, and told what 
they ought to say ; reasons being as yet withheld. Their 
known provincialisms are expressly called out in order 
to be extirpated. Even if they leave school before the 
age of grammar (which I think is not earlier than ten 
or eleven) they should still be sufficiently disciplined 
in correct speaking to rise above the prevailing vulgar 
errors, if not to attain a better style of speaking and 
writing in the whole. 

While there is no natural priority as between the two 
subjects of Rational Arithmetic and Grammar (which 
is rational from its very nature), of the two wc may pro- 
nounce Grammar much the hardest, and requiring a 
riper state of the faculties. In point of difficulty, I 
would compare Grammar to the commencement of Al- 
gebra ; meaning by Grammar — Analysis of Sentences, 
the Definitions of the Parts of Speech, and the equiva- 
lent functions of the single word, the phrase, and the 
clause. There are easier parts of grammar : both In- 
flexion and Derivation are easier than Parts of Speech 
and Syntax ; but it is scarcely worth while introducing 
these much before the age when every part of Grammar 
may be understood. 

There is abundant occupation from six to nine years 

in knowing words and in getting sentence forms impressed 
11 



214- SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— LOGICAL. 

on the memory, together with pronunciation and good 
reading. In addition to committing poetry, short pieces 
of prose may be selected for the goodness of the style, 
and also committed. There is no need ever to take a 
sentence to pieces. Sentences may be varied to show 
the same thing differently worded; and the pupils will 
gradually feel the superiority of one form over others ; 
while, as regards the correct and conventional idioms, 
they must take the merits upon trust. (See Chap. IX.) 

Still greater difficulties of sequence are found in the 
knoivledge communicated during the first few years of 
school training. The composition of the Reading-books 
shows the prevailing views as to what subjects are to 
precede and what to follow one another. There is usually 
a mixture of easy poetry, tales, mostly with a moral, 
and simple information on interesting subjects within the 
capacity of children. The ends sought are to give plea- 
sure, to cultivate the affections and the moral feelings, 
and to make a beginning in the imparting of knowledge, 
or rather to follow up the desultory impressions of per- 
sonal experience, with connected statements that shall 
extend, rectify, and concentrate these chance impres- 
sions. Nevertheless, exercises in spelling, pronouncing, 
reading, and knowledge of language, at first take the 
lead. 

For interest or amusement, the tale or narrative is 
the central device ; and the art of weaving suitable tales 
has attained great perfection. A piece of information, 
a moral lesson, can be wrapped up in a short tale, and 
brought home with impetus. As there is a consider- 
able expenditure of mind in proportion to the result, 



SEQUENCE IN KNOWLEDGE. 21 5 

the information or moral should be well selected ; every 
little point in the vast area of useful knowledge cannot 
afford the requisite machinery. 

Next to the tale (which may be prose or verse) is the 
poem, or metrical composition. The special advantage 
is the impression made on the ear, and through that on 
the memory ; there is also the loftier strain of diction, 
which the child is gradually led up to appreciate. 
Poetry is used for moral lessons, and also for conden- 
sing information : the months of the year, the charac- 
ters of the seasons, the habits of animals, the description 
of flowers, the events of history, are em.bodied in verse, 
for better lodgment in the memory ; being more agree- 
able as communicated in this form. The most amusing 
of all is the bold imaginative fiction, wrought up even 
to extravagance ; this can barely be allowed to pass as 
culture, although that claim is sometimes made for it 
under the head of Imagination. 

There is no real question of priority, until we look 
closely to the kind of information brought forward in 
the separate stages of the reading lessons. On this 
matter, teachers seem hitherto to be only feeling their 
way ; it is no easy task to chalk out a course that shall 
be really consecutive. For one thing, it is difficult to 
gain an adequate view of how much knowledge the child 
of six or seven brings with it to found upon. The ex- 
periment is not easy to make, owing to the very erratic 
character of a child's promiscuous impressions. What 
is still more serious is the difficulty of laying hold of 
anything in the nature of information that is worth 
communicating, and yet does not shoot too high. 

If the early training could be so directed as to en- 



2l6 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

rich and invigorate the conceptive faculty, a time would 
come when definite knowledge could be absorbed so 
rapidly as to dispense with the attempts to impart it 
prematurely. All the information in a reading book 
for the Third Standard, which is spread over a year, 
could be taken in by an apt boy of fifteen in three 
weeks. 

With an eye to such training, it is obvious that the 
memory for outward things, for sights, sounds, move- 
ments, must be carefully nurtured. A certain range 
of objects must be duly impressed in the first instance, 
and something done to cultivate new constructions or 
combinations of them. 

The regular course of school training has this effect, 
if it has any effect at all ; but it is under the guise of 
contributing definite and finished information about this, 
that, and the other thing. The so-called culture of the 
Imagination is, in the first instance, the stirring of 
emotions pleasing to the young. By virtue of the 
emotional excitement, certain pictures, images, or de- 
scriptions are impressed ; and these are a part of the 
permanent conceptions of the mind, useful on their own 
account, and also as materials for working up other con- 
ceptions. The more extravagant they are, the more 
they contribute to present emotion, and the less to the 
stock of useful conceptions. 'Jack and the Bean-stalk,' 
' Cinderella,' ' Puss in Boots,' et hoc gemis omney possess 
very little cultivating power. It is to stirring incidents 
from real life that the advantage in this respect most 
decidedly belongs. 

In the present connection, we may take a further 
glance at the Object lesson and the manner of conduct- 



OBJECT LESSONS. 21/ 

ing it. The teacher can make anything he pleases out 
of this ; it may aid the conceiving faculty, or it may 
not. The first good effect of it is, to waken up ob- 
servation to things within the pupils' ken ; by asking 
such questions as will send them back to re-examine 
what they have been in the habit of slurring over; or 
by questioning them on objects actually present. This 
is the beginning of the culture proposed. A wrong 
direction is given to the lesson when we assume the 
pupils' capability of bringing to mind whatever things 
they may have once seen, and when we expect them to 
make these up into new combinations. 

The basis of the conceptive faculty is necessarily ex- 
perience of things ; of scenes, human dwellings, inhabited 
cities, and all their component parts, living beings — 
men, animals, plants — operations and activities, social 
gatherings and intercourse. The wider this experience, 
the better is the commencement. Next to experience 
are motives to attention or observation ; these belong to 
the character of the mind, and cannot be artificially 
produced, except to a small extent. Intelligent com- 
panions are the best fostering causes of the requisite 
attention. We cannot secure strong emotions at every 
point ; and even if we could, a more moderate excite- 
ment would be better in the long run. 

The teacher might try to realize the situation of the 
child in its random accumulation of experiences, and 
to play up to it. Opportunities arise for stimulating 
interrogatories such as may quicken the retrospective 
glances at what has been experienced, and sharpen 
and point the attention for the succeeding opportunity. 
Books can hardly be contrived so as to hit the mark. 



21 8 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

Indeed, it is not easy to conduct a class in this line of 
exercises, wherein individuals differ so much. The 
routine of teaching as prescribed for teachers gene- 
rally cannot readily be accommodated to the purpose ; 
although the end may be brought before the mind 
of every instructor. 

Let me advert still further to the composition of the 
ordinary Reading Books, as regards the point of se- 
quence. The subjects of the first standards are simple 
poetry, fables, anecdotes of animals, easy stories. This 
is the stage when learning to read is the chief end of 
the lesson, the subjects being immaterial and secondary. 
In so far as the child reaches to a comprehension of the 
meaning, it finds gratification for the simpler affections 
and emotions, and is not expected to appropriate much 
information. Moral lessons are never lost sight of. Bio- 
graphies of good and eminent persons are an early meal. 

In the second and third standards, while the poetry 
is more varied, and the stories more lengthened, definite 
information begins in various forms. Natural History 
turns up one large region that is persistently drawn upon. 
Next come the two wide-ranging departments — Geo- 
graphy and Civil History. A further branch is Useful 
Knowledge — respecting the arts, industry and usages of 
life. All of these are given at first on the desultory and 
empirical plan ; and, not till the higher Standards have 
to be used, is an attempt made to be more consecutive. 
Elementary notions are afforded of Physics, Chemistry, 
and Physiology ; to these belong a rigorous sequence, 
unless we still adhere to the desultory and empirical 
treatment, which is, properly speaking, not science, but 
the preparation for it. 



NATURAL HISTORY. 219 

Natural History has three principal divisions, corre- 
sponding to the three kingdoms — Mineral, Vegetable, 
Animal. A perfect understanding of these subjects, 
(not including a mastery of all the details, but the 
knowledge of a' certain number, with the ability to com- 
prehend the rest when stated) supposes some knowledge 
of Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, and Physiology. 
Minerals would come first, in the proper arrangement, 
then Plants, then Animals. But there is a kind of 
knowledge of the subject that inverts all this, and that 
is the knowledge afforded in the first Reading Books. 
Among the veiy earliest topics are the descriptions of 
particular species of animals, as the rook, the butterfly, 
the bee, the spider, the sheep, the camel, the elephant. 
The order of selection seems to be mere chance. The 
aim is to take up what is already in some way familiar 
and interesting, through actual acquaintance, or wide- 
spread repute. For example, every child has seen a 
butterfly; could anything be better as the subject of a 
lesson .'' On this slight basis of personal knowledge 
the reading book imparts a quantity of information 
belonging to the Natural History of the animal. It is 
of the class Insects ; its swallow-tailed wing is covered 
witli a fine dust, which under the microscope is seen to 
be made up of scales ; it lives on the nectar of flowers, 
which it sucks up with a bony tube or trunk ; it has ten 
feelers or antcnncB ; its eyes are composite or mosaic ; 
like other winged insects, it passes through various 
stages — eg^, larva, chrysalis, butterfly. In the Third 
and Fourth Standards, this kind of lesson is frequent. 

Again, as to Plants. These are by no means so 
popular ; they want the interest of personality. Such 



220 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

wonders of the forest as the baobab and the banyan are 
brought forward and sketched so as to show their form, 
while description indicates their dimensions and other 
circumstances that inspire astonishment. Flowers are 
ushered in to view, at first by the abundance of the 
poetry that embraces them, and in the incidents of gar- 
dening that occur in little domestic and other tales 
Botanical knowledge comes much later. 

Minerals are selected on similar considerations ; from 
their splendour, rarity, popularity, and other exciting 
circumstances. There is, however, no conscious purpose 
in bringing them forward. The author of a reading 
book seldom, so far as I have been able to judge, pro- 
poses to himself representative selections of the great 
departments of knowledge. 

In these early reading books it is evident that the 
regard to sequence is very much dispensed with ; the 
supposition being that the stage for it has not yet ar- 
rived. Nevertheless, it cannot be entirely dispensed 
with. ' A butterfly is of the class Insects ; ' this refers 
back to some previous knowledge of insects as a class, 
and if no such knowledge has been given, the explana- 
tion halts. The mode of putting it in that case should 
be different. The appearance or features of a common 
butterfly would first be stated : these every child would 
partly recognize, while inwardly resolving to observe 
them better next time. Then the less apparent organs 
might be noticed ; together with the microscopic addi- 
tions. This would be enough for the description at 
that stage. Next the flight or motions might be stated. 
Then would come the mode of feeding, with which 
everyone can sympathize. After which the marvels 



PERSONALITY INTERVENING. 221 

of its transformations could be adduced in a general 
way; all the better for the aid of diagrams or specimens. 
Then, at the last, its belonging to the class Insect could 
be so mentioned as to be a contribution to the child's 
knowledge of the class ; other familiar examples, as the 
house-fly, the bee, the spider, being quoted. Even in 
the desultory citation of interesting examples, sequence 
is still an expository condition ; the order of proceeding 
from the known to the unknown, from the vague to the 
precise, from the individual or species to the general, 
must always be observed. 

The interest of personality is perpetually inverting 
the order of study. The child is introduced to men, 
women, boys, girls, cats, dogs, horses, canaries, almost 
before anything else. In scientific Zoology, the mental 
qualities of animals are the last thing quoted ; indeed, 
these are often left out altogether. We acquire a certain 
superficial knowledge of beings and animals, from at- 
tending to their outward aspects and movements, through 
our sympathetic or other emotions. The Naturalist 
begins at the other end ; and it is no easy matter to 
overtake him from our starting-point. 

It is plain that we must work out three stages in 
Natural History study. The first is allusive and de- 
sultory in the extreme degree. No order is observed 
except to begin with what will afford interest to the 
most juvenile feelings. It is a mere continuation of the 
early impressions that animals, plants, and minerals 
make on the mind by virtue of their chance interest. 
There is, however, another stage, where there is provided 
information of the scientific kind, only not in strict 
scientific method. Here the order is far from indifferent 



222 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— LOGICAL. 

Whatever descriptions are given should proceed upon 
some prior knowledge, and should be kept in view, 
as a groundwork of something farther. The order of 
known to unknown, simple to complex, must underlie 
all teaching, however far it may be from the final, or 
third, stage of scientific order. 

Let me next advert to the teaching of Geography, 
which is perhaps the most advanced in method of any 
subject, except Arithmetic. The sequence from the 
known to the unknown has been well worked out in 
the scheme of Geographical lessons ; the teachers in the 
German schools are very strong on this head. It is 
well recognized that the first notions of Geography are 
got from the child's own neighbourhood ; a hill, a val- 
ley, a stream, a field, a plain, must all be seen in the 
first instance ; and it is desirable that a plurality of 
each should come under observation before beginning 
Geography. Very young children cannot view these 
things in their geographical aspect. The ability to 
form pictures of mountains and rivers in other countries 
is a late stage of the conceptive faculty. The full notion 
of a river takes a great deal of thinking power, im- 
plicating as it does hill and valley, as well as the 
notion of an expanse of country made up of these, 
and constructed so as to converge to one main channel. 
All these elements have to be dealt with in separation, 
and yet in a well-considered order, as so many object 
lessons. 

Concurrently with this effort is the mastering of 
direction, and the cardinal points. This is one of the 
earliest abstractions that the pupil is expected to master, 



SEQUENCE IN GEOGRAPHY. 223 

being coeval with the higher stages of Arithmetic. It 
can be very successfully conducted upon the immediate 
surroundings of the school, and these can be put into 
their Geographical relations at the same time ; while the 
imagination can be conducted to the north and to the 
south, to the east and to the west, by naming more lo- 
calities that stretch out in the several directions. The 
explanation of the four points can readily be carried 
up to the course of the sun, yielding at the same time 
the beginning of an Astronomy lesson, but the teacher 
should beware of pursuing these collateral lessons be- 
yond his immediate purpose. 

* The geography of the infant school,' says Currie, 
' should be pictorial and descriptive. Commencing with 
the elements of natural scenery that fall under the 
child's observation, and carefully noting their distance 
and relative direction from the school, and from each 
other — the hill, the mountain, the brook, the river, the 
plain, the forest, the moor, the rich mould, the island, 
the sea, the cliff, the cape, the castle, the village, the 
city, that may be seen in prospect from the school ; the 
productions of his own land — its animals, its trees and 
flowers and herbs, its metals ; the men of his own land 
— their occupations, their customs, their habits, their 
food, their clothing ; it should seek to make the child 
realize the corresponding features of other lands and 
climes by comparison with what it has observed in its 
own. We should even set before his eye, when possible, 
specimens and pictures of foreign products and scenes, 
and for the rest appeal to his imagination to take off the 
impressions from our vivid description. Such is an out- 
line in brief of the course the instruction should follow.' 



224 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— LOGICAL. 

It is difficult to believe in the possibility of such a 
course in the infant stage. It implies first that the child 
has had full opportunities of seeing places and objects. 
Next is assumed that the child's mode of looking at 
scenery has been elevated above its own petty amuse- 
ments, and has seized the meaning of things in the 
great scale. Further, there is taken for granted the 
constructive or imaginative power of realizing other 
scenes differently arranged and made up. That any 
child before ten could be capable of such an effort is 
not to be credited. It begins to be practicable to the 
well-educated youth of twelve or thirteen, and approaches 
the greatest heights of a successful training of the con- 
ceptive powers. 

Nevertheless, by a series of well-conducted object 
lessons, desultory to the superficial glance, but in the 
highest degree methodical underneath, the elernentary 
facts of Geography may be gradually instilled, and a 
preparation made for the last stage of formal teaching 
by the maps. A great quantity of Natural History and 
other knowledge is taken for granted in carrying out 
the modern method of endeavouring to conceive in full 
concreteness the aspects of the various countries. But, 
indeed, it may be doubted whether so high an aim is 
really accomplished ; yet, there is good done, and not 
harm, in entertaining it. 

When the power of conceiving is sufficiently ad- 
vanced, and when it has been fully exercised in geo- 
graphical facts, the methodical study commences and 
is a tolerably plain course. The selection suitable for 
pupils at different stages and in different circumstances 



DIFFICULTIES OF HISTORY. 225 

gives little trouble. The subject will come up again 
presently in connection with our next discussion. 

Of all the departments of early teaching, none is so 
unmanageable as History. Its protean phases of infor- 
mation and of interest, its constant mixture of what 
attracts the youngest with what is intelligible only to 
the maturest minds, renders it especially troublesome 
in early teaching. Nothing comes sooner home to the 
child than narratives of human beings, their pursuits, 
their passions, their successes, and their disasters, their 
virtues and their vices, their rewards and their punish- 
ments, their enmities and their friendships, their failures 
and their triumphs. Arranged in circumstantial narra- 
tive, with the suspense of a plot, and the sensational 
conclusion, these incidents of humanity arouse our 
feelings and interest, at the first dawn of intelligence, 
and never lose their magic. 

Narratives, as we have seen, come on the stage to 
lighten the toil of learning to read ; they are not further 
counted on, except for making an amiable or moral im- 
pression. Gradually they are made the vehicle of easy 
kinds of useful information, but are not yet thought of 
as supplying historical knowledge. In the biographical 
form, they begin to enlarge the acquaintance with 
human beings of the more eminent class, but with a 
view to excite emotions in the first instance. The 
narratives of social collective action, which alone is pro- 
perly historical knowledge, start with battles, which 
awaken the early and powerful passions of the mind, 
and give the first bias to the sentiments towards our own 
and other nations. The youthful mind soon comes to 



226 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS — LOGICAL. 

understand the meaning of invasions, aggression, pil- 
lage, conquest, on one hand, and victorious resistance, 
on the other, with the incidents of co-operation and 
alHances on either side. In the course of these excit- 
ing narratives, there springs up a vague understanding 
of the great fact of society — Sovereignty and Subjection ; 
the parental sphere being a help to the conception. By 
degrees, the ordinary action of the sovereign power in 
time of peace comes to be intelligible in the more pro- 
minent features, as administering Justice, raising Taxes, 
and making Public Works. With sovereignty attached 
to one person arises the conception of the successive 
reigns of the sovereigns, with which is associated the 
mention of great events, and especially wars and other 
explosive changes. 

As with Geography, so with History, the first thing 
is to familiarize the mind with the elements, or con- 
stituents of historical changes or events. Only, these 
are of a greater degree of complexity, and belong to a 
far later stage. Moreover, the child lives in the midst 
of the simpler geographical elements ; views with its 
own eyes, hills, valleys, plains, rivers, cities. It is not so 
easy to bring it into the presence of historical elements. 
It knows family life, and a little beyond that ; it knows 
of the policeman and his duties as representing in a 
humble way the power of the State. For historical con- 
ceptions, it must wait a much longer time, and take a 
great deal upon trust. But since the deep political 
forces, which it cannot understand, take the form of a 
stirring narrative, which it can in part understand, history 
is seldom entirely devoid of interest or debarred from 
leaving impressions, and in those impressions are mate- 



ERRORS IN HISTORY SEQUENCE. 22/ 

rials that may one day constitute a portion of historical 
knowledge, in the highest forms. Children's history is 
simply the sensational events of history extracted with 
as little of the abstruser explanations as it is possible to 
give. It may be so conducted, and should be so con- 
ducted, as to impart an outline of correct chronology, 
which should be deposited in the memory at the earliest 
convenient moment when it is likely to be retained. 

The reasons are obvious and many for beginning wnth 
our own country. We assume that there has preceded 
a view of the geography of the country, which fits into 
the history, so as to enhance the effect of both. Then 
all knowledge respecting the existing facts and arrange- 
ments of our nation — the Legislative, Administrative, 
and Judicial Systems, the Standing Army and Navy, the 
Religious Denominations in the three Kingdoms, Edu- 
cation, Agriculture, Trade, Manufactures, — assists in 
making intelligible the history of the past. 

There can be no systematic teaching of History in 
school years ; but there may be an avoidance of perverse 
and erroneous methods. The attempt to plunge into 
modern European History at large with children of ten, 
can but confuse ; select episodes should be chosen on 
the ground of their impressiveness. The same in regard 
to Ancient History, with its more stirring incidents, and 
its gorgeous mythology, which, as being the creation of 
the infancy of the race, has power to arrest the infant 
mind in the individual, and is presented with this express 
view. Seeing that very little of real instruction can come 
of all this, the point is to see that it makes an impression 
on the feelings, and through them on the conceptive 
power or the imagination ; if it falls flat, and has to be 



2 28 SEQUENCE OF SUBJECTS— LOGICAL. 

inculcated by the force of discipline, it is better with- 
held. 

In teaching Geography, slight touches of history may 
be given, and in teaching History, geographical facts 
may be impressed ; due regard being had to the pre- 
caution of not pursuing the digressions too far. 

How to teach History proper, at the age when it can 
be taught, resolves itself into the method of explaining 
the elementary facts and workings of Government and 
Society, or what is called Sociology. This might have 
to be considered at the same time with the question of 
introducing the laws of Political Economy, which form 
a part of Sociology, in some respects simpler than the 
laws of Politics at large, although in the end mixed up 
with these. As repeatedly remarked, the stream of 
stirring narrative carries with it a number of fragments 
of a scheme of Sociology; and a time comes when 
they may be pieced together and the scheme com- 
pleted. 

As History will always be brought into early teaching 
long before the age when Sociology can be taught as a 
science following on the Science of Mind, there must be 
an empirical sociology involved or implied. This would 
suit the middle period of a complete education, say be- 
tween thirteen and sixteen, when by the present arrange- 
ments classical teaching is in the ascendant. At that time 
the elements of Social Science might be introduced, and 
might receive their illustration in the historical field ; 
but historical reading, apart from some definite social 
conceptions, must still remain in the lower stage of 
sensation narrative ; or at most can but add to the 
more ordinary facts of human nature. 



ORDER IN THE SCIENCES. 229 

The only remaining topic of Sequence is the order 
of the leading sciences — Mathematics, Physics, &c. If 
we take the five fundamental sciences — Mathematics, 
Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Psychology, the order now 
stated is what would be generally allowed. The Natural 
History Sciences — Mineralogy, Botany, Zoology, walk 
by the side of these ; Mineralogy, following on Physics 
and Chemistry, and Botany and Zoology being one aspect 
of Biology. Psychology, properly taught, would succeed 
Biology ; but it is also the subject of an empirical 
teaching that dispenses with the knowledge and training 
of the preceding sciences. On Psychology would hang 
Scientific Sociology, fed by the earlier studies in Geo- 
graphy and History, but still demanding a rigorous 
scientific treatment in its place in the roll of the sciences. 
This would be the stage of Political Economy, and of 
the highest Ethical teaching ; but both of these are sup- 
posed to be previously given in the empirical shape. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

METHODS. 

The foregoing chapter is intended to relieve the present 
one by a separate handhng of one leading topic of Me- 
thod. A full consideration of order or sequence lightens 
the task now to be undertaken — namely, to set forth the 
methods of teaching in detail. 

The Teaching Method is arrived at in various ways. 
One principal mode is experience of the work ; this is 
the inductive or practical source. Another mode is de- 
duction from the laws of the human mind ; this is the 
deductive or theoretical source. The third and best mode 
is to combine the two ; to rectify empirical teaching by 
principles, and to qualify deductions from principles by 
practical experience. 

As Morals, Religion, and Art are not included in 
this chapter, the discussion will revolve on the one great 
topic of communicating knowledge, and will follow the 
various aspects that knowledge assumes — as particular 
or general, and as relating to one or other of the many 
departments of the knowable ; for example, the various 
sciences, in so far as they differ in their methods of 
teaching. 

The arts' and devices for communicating knowledge 
are comprised in the practical science of Rhetoric, and 



RHETORICAL ARTS OF EXPOSITION. 23 1 

ought to be exhaustively viewed in that science. Rhe- 
toric, however, has not yet been so completely shaped as 
to supply everything that belongs to the various emer- 
gencies of teaching. Nevertheless, the study of that 
subject, so far as it has been matured, is in the direct line 
of the teacher's work. The practice of the school not 
being confined to the means of assisting the understand- 
ing, but involving also appeals to the feelings, all the 
parts of Rhetorical method may come into operation. 

Still, Rhetoric, as usually given, leaves out many 
points relative to the work of the school. The Rhe- 
torical arts of good exposition, by Example, by Contrast, 
by Illustration, by Proof, must be known to every suc- 
cessful teacher ; but the ordering of lessons, the con- 
ducting of viva voce interrogations, the proportioning of 
oral instruction to book work, the managing of object 
lessons, — demand an amount of consideration that they 
have never yet received from any writer on Rhetoric. 

The outline formerly given of the great functions 
making up Intellect, supplies the leading points of me- 
thod, as regards knowledge generally. We have seen 
what arrangements favour Discrimination as such ; and 
Discrimination is not only the beginning of all knowledge, 
but, under the more expressive form of the sense of Con- 
trast, bears a part in every new acquirement. The co- 
ordinate power of discerning Agreement has also its 
conditions, and these were previously stated, and again 
repeated in the last preceding chapter. The great func- 
tion of Retentivencss was likewise briefly unfolded, as to 
its manner of working, and the conditions assigned ; these 
being remarkably precise, as well as all-important. 

In reviewing the various branches of school instruc- 



232 METHODS : — CONSTRUCTIVENESS. 

tion, we can discern several common characteristics ad- 
mitting of general treatment. In the commencement of 
Speaking, in Singing, in Writing, and in Drawing, we 
have mechanical constructiveness, and this has a still more 
extended application in the manual arts. The mode of 
working here is simple and uniform ; its conditions have 
been already assigned [p. 40], and will now be more 
fully exemplified. In learning to Read, constructiveness 
is joined with the associating operation of uniting arti- 
culate sounds with visible symbols. There is also called 
into play the discriminating sensibility of the eye, on 
which depends the retentiveness or memory for visible 
forms. 

Constructiveness, as distinct from literal memory, en- 
ters into all the higher education, and is described under 
various names, the most apt being Conception or the 
Conceptive power or faculty. The first foundation of this 
may be called memory, provided we understand that it 
is memory of the concrete, or the full sensible image of 
the things that have impressed the senses. Having been 
inside a great building, we carry away with us a more or 
less exact recollection of its form, dimensions, surface, 
and contents, in their order ; this is memory^ but it is 
also conception. The o'ftener we have been inside the 
building, and the more attentive we have been, the fuller 
and firmer is our mental image. To hold such recollec- 
tions in our mind, is to conceive more or less perfectly 
what we have seen. This is a power and an education 
in itself ; and it is the ground-work of the farther 
education of conceiving what we may not have seen, 
but merely hear or read about. 



BEGINNINGS IN SPEAKING. 233 

CONSTRUCTIVE ACQUIREMENTS. 

We shall view these together, as they proceed ac- 
cording to the very same laws. The earliest acquisitions 
of infancy exemplify purely mechanical constructiveness. 
Such are Speaking, Writing and Drawing. 

Reverting to the principles already laid down respect- 
ing the constructive process, we have first to lay stress 
upon the random or spontaneous commencement of our 
various movements. Action of some sort precedes the 
desired action ; a great many movements are made be- 
fore the proper one appears. The teacher cannot dictate 
the right movement ; he must wait upon it, and try to 
clench it when it is at last hit upon. 

Speaking. 

The first lessons in speaking, gone through in the 
nursery, show the difficulties of commencement at their 
greatest. The school teacher finds the power in ex- 
istence, and improves upon it. He has to impart new 
articulations and to correct and refine the old. He will 
encounter much stubborn inability to fall upon the de- 
sired sounds, and must proceed upon correct principles. 
His own articulation needs to be clear and expressive, 
for the sake of a good model. He must consider that 
this is one of the trying moments of instruction : all 
the circumstances need to be favourable ; the pupils 
should be at their best, and in circumstances to favour 
vocal freshness and spontaneity. Many trials must be 
allowed to get a child into a new shade of vowel, as, for 
example, when Scotch children have to learn the English 
sound of ' all.' 



234 METHODS : — SPEAKING. 

Concurrently with the alphabet and the first lessons 
in reading, there is a great extension of the articulating 
range, to which apply all the maxims relative to every 
new constructive process. Time must be bestowed upon 
this part of the reading exercise by itself, irrespective of 
the farther operations of distinguishing and attaching the 
visible letters. The joining of syllables into words, is a 
matter of farther articulate constructiveness, and furnishes 
no small demands upon the flexibility of the articulating 
organs, as well as upon the cohesive or plastic power. 

A good analysis of sounds, confirmed by teaching 
experience, shows the best order of the exercises in arti- 
culating. The vowels are indifterent in point of sequence ; 
the consonants may show a gradation of facility. The 
combinations follow the sequence of simple and complex ; 
but at every stage, it is a question of the compass and 
flexibility of the articulating organs, the beginnings 
being wholly at random. The teacher's opportunity is 
some chance hit, which he improves until the lucky 
movement is well confirmed. 

This single branch of the reading lesson should have 
much time bestowed upon it. At the age when the 
communicating of knowledge is premature, the attention 
cannot be better occupied than with the mechanical ac- 
complishments — of which articulation is at the head. The 
mere power of articulating should be followed up by 
elocution and cadence, which are equally suitable as 
subjects of training for the years from four to seven. 
To these also the same cautions are applicable ; the 
concentrating of time and strength upon initial diffi- 
culties, and the patient waiting upon the pupil's own 
spontaneity, with the guidance of a clear model. 



MECHANICAL ACQUISITIONS. 235 

The Mamial Constructivcness. 

The school training in Writing and in Drawing is a 
branch of the training of the hand. The practice of 
putting children to write, as their very first attempt at 
delicate handiwork, appears objectionable. The art of 
writing ranks high among the manual acquirements, and 
should be preceded by easier exercises. The simpler- 
lessons of Drawing are obviously easier than writing ; 
while the making of symmetrical shapes is more agree- 
able than forming letters. Probably the natural course 
to follow would be the method of the Kindergarten, which 
is to train the hand upon moulding objects in clay, fol- 
lowed by cutting out paper figures, and gradually leading 
up to elementary drawing, after which writing would 
come with comparative ease, but would still be a con- 
siderable step in advance, like beginning a trade. 

The mechanical aptitudes have a Sense element, 
which must proceed with the active element. The child 
has to work up to some model or design, and must 
clearly perceive the appearances that it has to repro- 
duce. This is described as the culture of the senses ; but 
it is rather the culture of the act or habit of attending 
to sense aspects and properties, and depends on evoking 
a special interest or aim. The interest may be the charm 
of the thing itself; this may apply to little models to 
be imitated in clay, or to designs given for drawing, but 
cannot belong to alphabetical characters. There is also 
the interest of successful manipulation, which can be 
drawn upon after a little facility is gained. This belongs 
to the dullest subjects, and is the more needful in be- 
ginning to write. 



236 METHODS : — MANUAL CONSTRUCTIVENESS. 

While giving all credit to the course pursued in the 
Kindergarten, in devising preparatory manual exercises, 
before entering on the difficulties of writing, I must indi- 
cate what appears to be the danger and the abuse of 
that mode of proceeding. It seems a mistake to con- 
stitute these early exercises an end in themselves, and to 
allow the pupil to be absorbed and detained by them. 
■ A certain amount of manual power, and of sense dis- 
crimination, is necessary to everyone, for the various 
exigencies of life, and as a preparation for the higher 
knowledge ; but it is only particular professions or trades 
that carry any one aptitude to high perfection, and the 
culture for a trade should not be set before the child 
beginning its education. The drawing of symmetrical 
forms and elegant curves is a good thing by the way, as 
training the hand by something that possesses interest ; 
yet is but a means to an end, and should be kept in 
strict subordination. At some future day, select indi- 
viduals will develope their forte or capacity for drawing, 
and render themselves skilled in it as artists or designers, 
only that is out of place at the commencement ; and the 
indulgence of a special taste at the early stage but 
disturbs the proper career of the learner. 

Apart from the systematic hand training of the 
Kindergarten, there can be no doubt of the advantage 
of combining writing with elementary drawing, as is 
advocated by Currie and others. In the process of 
writing itself, the analysis of forms has to be taken into 
account, as is carried out in the method of Mulhaiiser. 
This is merely exemplifying the order from the simple 
to the complex. The only objection to the method is 
that it is dry and uninteresting; the pupil feels roused to 



WRITING. 237 

a grander imitative effort by having a complete letter to 
form at a stroke. And although grown men, such as 
recruits in the army, can be kept at work on elemen- 
tary movements, children have little heart in them, and 
are slow in conquering the difficulties that they present. 
It is like practising scales in music, which to very young 
pupils is repulsive. As soon, therefore, as the progress 
will allow, the attempt may be made to copy the com- 
plete letters, without surrendering the practice in strokes, 
pot-hooks, and the other simple elements. 

The proper inclination, dimensions, and distances of 
the letters, are attained through a delicate sense of visible 
form which is very various in individuals, and is best 
cultivated by drawing exercises. This need not be 
pushed to an extreme point of delicacy for the ends of 
primary education ; any very extraordinary endowment 
in the art is likely to be attended with deficiencies in 
other important mental qualities. All pupils should be 
brought up to the point of plain passable writing ; and 
should be made to put stress on the points that distin- 
guish such letters as are apt to be confounded : it is not 
the schoolmaster's business to carry writing to the pitch 
of a work of art. 

The Art of Drawing, here invoked as a coadjutor of 
the first steps in writing, is, I presume, sufficiently well 
formulated on its own account. I am interested only in 
the more elementary exercises, as I do not consider the 
higher stages to belong to general education. The ex- 
ercise of perspective drawing from real objects, is thought 
a grand culture of the power of observation. I have 
already expressed doubts as to the truth of this view : 
the exercise certainly cultivates the observation of such 
12 



238 METHODS : — READING. 

points as are necessary for the purpose of drawing; 
whatever is involved in these is attended to ; but obser- 
vation is a large word, meaning many things besides. 

Reading. 

The extent and complicacy of this accomplishment 
make it the work of years, even when not commenced 
very early. The power of speaking is presupposed, 
although it is in connection with reading that perfection 
in speech is ultimately attained. The eye and the in- 
tellectual processes bear the brunt of the acquisition. 

The art of Reading should be viewed, in the first 
instance as distinct, both from spoken language and from 
the knowledge attained through speech ; it is also dis- 
tinct from the acquisition of farther knowledge through 
books, although intended to compass that object. It is 
the art of pronouncing words at sight of their visible 
characters. 

If our language, like the Chinese, had a character for 
each word, the eye would have to be taught first to discri- 
minate the characters ; next an association would have 
to be formed between each spoken word and its charac- 
ter. The teacher shows the character and pronounces 
the word ; the pupil attends with the ear and with the 
eye, mostly with the eye, because the form is what is 
strange to him. We are not informed, so far as I am 
aware, of the methods of the Chinese schoolmasters for 
getting through the herculean task of forming several 
thousands of distinct associations between sounds arid 
symbols. The experience of ages must have suggested 
the most economical mode, and it would be interesting 



THE ALPHABET. 239 

to compare the approved method with what we should 
deduce from the laws of the Retentive faculty. 

As an Alphabetical language, English is learned on 
the principle of analyzing words into their constituent 
sounds, and connecting these with the elementary or 
alphabetical letters. As an irregularly spelt language, 
there is still something of the Chinese necessity for 
taking each word by itself; we have to learn to pro- 
nounce ' rough ' and ' through,' ' faculties ' and ' facilities,' 
by looking at the words as wholes, and not by infer- 
ring from one to the other, or from the powers of the 
separate letters. 

The first act of reading is to distinguish the letters 
by the eye, and especially those that are nearly alike. 
Here we fall back upon one main condition of the discri- 
minative power — concentrated attention upon the differ- 
ence ; to secure which, we may magnify the difference 
artificially. 

With the visible alphabetic characters or letters we 
must connect their names or vocal representatives, in 
order to speak about them, and with a view to the future 
stage of spelling. 

The fixing of the visible impressions of the alphabet 
is hastened if the pupil is sufficiently advanced in the 
power of the hand to draw the letters with chalk, or with 
slate pencil. It need not take long to distinguish and 
name the characters. 

Now commences the difficulty — how to deal with 
words. As these are made up of letters, it seems natural 
to jump from the sounds of the letters to the sounds of 
their combinations ; after knowing/, ?/, /, the child may 
be expected, on seeing ' put,' to pronounce it accordingly. 



240 METHODS :— READING. 

This might be the case, if the letters separately could 
be sounded exactly as they are in combination ; which 
is true of the vowels (allowance being made for our 
irregular spelling) but not of the consonants, as we 
cannot pronounce a consonant without a vowel, more 
especially the abrupter consonants,/, /, k, b, d, &c. The 
liquids, /, in, n, r, and the sibilants, are pronouncable 
without consonants ; but in giving them names, we still 
use a particular vowel, em, ar, ess. The pupil must be 
made aware as early as possible of this circumstance, 
by being initiated and practised in the efifect of the 
consonants as they occur in words ; a thing that in- 
evitably happens sooner or later, so that learners cease 
to be misled by the sounds used for merely naming the 
consonants. A little practice upon easy words, pat, put, 
pop, tap, gives a mastery of the value of/ in composi- 
tion. 

Much stress is now laid by teachers on the point of 
beginning to pronounce short words at sight, without 
spelling them ; and a strong condemnation is uttered 
against the old spelling method. The difference be- 
tween the methods is not very apparent to me ; after a 
few preliminary steps, the two must come to the same 
thing. Of far more serious import is the mode of 
grappling with irregularity of spelling. When among 
the earliest lessons, a child is made to pronounce — ' do I 
go — is it set on,' it is on the Chinese principle of learn- 
ing each word seriatim, without inferring from one to 
another ; the o is sounded in three ways, the / in two, 
the s in two. After a time, no doubt, the letters are 
found to have recurring meanings, and inferences from 
one to another may be made, with a certain allowance 



SPELLING. 241 

for two or three possible modes, the particular choice 
being decided by the word ; so that the Chinese prin- 
ciple is limited but not abandoned. 

The preferable plan seems to be to carry the pupils 
forward a certain way on perfectly uniform spellings, so 
that they may get the idea of regularity, and also the 
most prevalent sounds of the letters. This is not so 
difficult upon a, e, i, 11, whose short sounds, at, bet, it, 
nut, are almost uniformly spelt with a single consonant 
to follow. Moreover, the irregularities of the consonants 
could be kept out of sight for somQ time. Some notion 
of law and uniformity would be thus imparted at the 
outset. 

For the long sounds of tho four vowels, there are 
usually employed some additional letters, unfortunately 
not in a regular way, but still serving as a contrast 
to the short sounds ; as came, meet, sign, full. These 
different devices should be classified, giving the most 
frequent first, and then the less frequent. 

The refractory vowel is ^. If when our language 
became possessed of the sound aive, all, a vowel charac- 
ter had been invented for it, we should have been saved 
a large number of our worst spelling anomalies ; if that 
could be done yet, it would be our greatest phonetic 
improvement. 

The modes of spelling for this sound may still be 
classified, but they are numerous and contradictory — all, 
fall, call {cf. mall, sh ill), cause {cf. aunt), aiue, talk. With 
the short sound of this vowel, got, not, rot, the system 
of the other vowels prevails, but with exceptions — as 
God, Job, both, loth. Still, uniformity should first be 
taught, and the exceptions enumerated. 



242 METHODS I — READING. 

The real difficulties of our spelling are nearly ex- 
hausted upon our monosyllables ; if these were fully 
mastered, the anomalies in words of more than one 
syllable would not seem formidable. 

Notwithstanding the zeal that has been displayed in 
the work of phonetic reform, no one seems to have gone 
through the labour (not small) of classifying the existing 
spellings under uniformities and exceptions ; proceed- 
ing upon such classings as give the most agreements 
and the fewest exceptions. Until this is done, learning 
to read is not made so easy as it might be made. The 
principle of minimizing exceptions, and of placing them 
all together at the end of the rule, is the only known 
principle of economizing the learner's strength, or of 
reducing the Chinese operation to the narrowest limits. 

After the very best classification, the attainment of 
English spelling is a work of long time and detail, the 
result of combined reading, writing to dictation, and 
extensive practice under correction. 

Pronunciation follows in the same course, and is 
usually connected with reading. It can be taught only 
by teachers that themselves pronounce well. It is con- 
ducted on the plan of attacking the prevailing errors 
and faults of the children, which are for the most 
part local or provincial. A phonetic spelling would be 
a valuable help to pronunciation. 

Good elocution is a still higher aim, and must come 
later, as it supposes that the pupils are alive to the mean- 
ing of what is read or pronounced. 

Division of labour requires that the attention should 
be concentrated on the act of learning to read, without 
endeavouring to extend the bounds of the pupil's know- 



KNOWLEDGE LESSONS FORBORNE. 243 

ledge in the first instance. The reading exercises must 
refer to some subject or other ; but the proper plan is to 
take very familiar and easy subjects. Indeed, the subject 
matter should excite as little attention as possible, and 
the visible words as much as possible. If the mind is to 
be in anywise occupied with the meaning, amusement 
should be the aim, by way of relieving the strain. Some 
of the emotions may be occasionally touched — affection, 
power, admiration, indignation ; and it is so far well that 
these should have a good moral tendency ; but even 
moral teaching, if fatiguing, is to be foreborne. The 
little lessons about cats, and dogs, children at play, 
and kindness to those in distress, are intended to give 
scope to the emotions of children — more particularly the 
agreeable patronizing emotion — by suitable stories and 
situations ; and this is the reward for the fatigues of 
commencing to read. In themselves, these themes go 
for next to nothing. Even the pretty little poems are 
of so childish a character, that it is better they should 
not be remembered at all, unless as part of the stores of 
the future parent. 

During the first year or more of learning to read, the 
extension of knowledge should still depend partly upon 
personal experience and partly upon oral communication. 
There comes a time, however, when the book read is 
regarded not merely as an instrument of instruction 
in reading, but as a vehicle for information. This is a 
critical moment, a new start, although usually disguised 
by the stealthy way that it is brought in. The situation 
is one that needs to be carefully considered, and the 
conditions of success fully understood. 



244 METHODS : — READING. 

Already, in discussing Sequence, I have alluded to 
the nature of the progressive lessons in general know- 
ledge and to the difficulties attending it. We may here 
narrow the issue, by considering what things to avoid, as 
unsuitable, or else unnecessary. 

Assuming as granted, that we should not enter upon 
matters either beyond the comprehension of the pupils, 
or beyond their interest at the time, the teacher should 
avoid interfering with their own spontaneous course of 
self-instruction. A parent can guide and direct this to 
a good result, but the means at the command of the 
teacher are much more limited. 

The following is given by Mr. Morrison, as an 
example of a lesson on the simplest conceivable subject, 
used in the first instance for practice in reading : — 

* The rat sat on a nmt, the fat cat ran to the mat, the 
rat ran in-to the box. Can the cat go in-to the box ? no, 
the fat cat can-not go in-to the box.' 

Now this lesson is contrived purely with a view to 
words and spelling, and although the words are put 
together to make a meaning, the choice is guided solely 
by the aim of exemplifying certain vowel sounds. The 
early introduction of the ' cat ' and the ' rat ' to the notice 
of children is due to their being convenient examples of 
monosyllables in short a. The ' mouse,' the more usual 
object of the cat's activity, is kept back because it is a 
more difficult spelling. Now, it must be allowed that 
the relations of the cat to the rat do possess a natural 
interest of a kind to affect the juvenile mind. Predatory 
pursuit excites us from the earliest years ; and any 
incidents embodying it will waken up the feelings and 
exercise the imagination in a bloodthirsty chase ; thus 



UNSUITABLE EXERCISES. 245 

enlivening the dull and dreary exercise of learning to 
read and spell. It does not follow, however, that the 
subject should be drawn out as a lesson in useful know- 
ledge, by turning it round and round, by making new 
suppositions as to the relations of cat and rat, and asking 
the pupils to say what would happen under these altered 
relations. There will come a time, and a place, for this 
sort of exercise, but the choice of subject should then be 
governed by its drift or meaning, and not by the words 
that happen to clothe that meaning. The following is 
the line of examination suggested by Mr. Morrison : — 

What two animals does your lesson speak about ? Have 
you ever seen a rat? A cat? Which is larger? Which is 
stronger ? Where was the rat sitting ? What was it doing on 
the mat ? What was sitting on the mat ? What is a mat ? 
Where do you see it ? What is its use ? If a little boy get his 
shoes dirtied, what should he do before going into the house ? 
The mat is used for — wiping the shoes. The rat sat on — a mat. 
Was that its own place ? Where should it have been ? As it 
was sitting on the mat who saw it ? What kind of cat was it ? 
And what did the fat cat do ? The fat cat ran — to the rat. 
(Describe the running — show how the cat would sit and watch, 
and then bound for\vard. This will amuse and interest the 
children, and keep them fresh for the remainder of the exami- 
nation.) Do you think the rat would wait on the mat ? What 
would it do? It would — run away, run away to — its hole. 
Where did it run? What is a box? What made of? How 
would it get into the box ? What must have been in the box ? 
You see then the rat ran into — the box, through — a hole. Did 
the cat go into the box ? Why not ? The hole would not let 
in — the cat, but it let in — the rat. Would the cat go away from 
the box? What would it do ? It would — rf^/,;//, beside the — 
box, to see if the rat — would come out, &c. 

Some of the criticisms suggested by this line of 



246 METHODS : — READING. 

questioning belong to a later discussion on the Object 
Lesson. At present we remark that if the intention is 
to base the examination on the child's experience, the 
cat and the mouse would be more suitable, as more 
likely to be witnessed. The child has little opportunity 
of closely inspecting a rat ; and even the play with a 
mouse is one of the rarest treats of the child's expe- 
rience. The cat with her kittens would give a firmer 
basis of the actual ; and might comprise the higher 
situation of her jealousy of the dog's attentions. 

But the main point to be insisted on at this stage is, 
that, while it is right to compose little scenes, situations 
and actions, to relieve the dryness of reading exercises, 
these are not necessarily suited for cross-examination, 
with a view to extend the knowledge, or to sharpen the 
faculties of pupils. Any meaning that may attach to 
the compositions used for learning to read, serves its 
purpose if it slightly amuses and interests the child ; if 
it deposits a moral or a fact, so much the better, but 
this should not be insisted on, nor should the teacher 
consider it his duty at this stage to impress the meaning. 
When he comes to that part of his work, he must have 
compositions expressly suited for the purpose, and not 
shaped for another purpose in addition. No man can 
serve two masters ; scarcely any composition lends itself 
equally to teaching language and teaching knowledge. 

I do not maintain that the attempt to improve the 
knowledge and intelligence of children should be post- 
poned till they are good readers ; but I hold that the 
exercises should be disjoined, and grounded on different 
texts. The same text may be used for both purposes, 
but it is too much to expect that what is best suited for 



LANGUAGE AND KNOWLEDGE DISJOINED. 247 

language, should be also best suited for meaning. Nor 
should the lessons be intermingled ; times should be set 
for each. There may be many examples of 'good 
thoughts well expressed,' but it is not likely that the 
expression and the thought shall both fall in at the same 
stage of the pupil's progress. 

The discussion of Method, if taken in the usual 
course, would lead us next to Arithmetic, Grammar, 
Geography, History, among elementary studies ; for the 
higher studies, Languages (foreign) and Sciences. It is 
desirable, however, to consider, with some degree of 
closeness, the Object Lesson, which is the precursor to 
the more systematic handling of the various branches of 
natural knowledge, and, from its undefined character, is 
more apt to run in unprofitable channels. The Object 
Lesson is exemplified in the Standard Reading Books, 
and the teacher may strictly follow what is there pro- 
vided for him ; but he is also directed to give such 
lessons from his own invention. 

THE OBJECT LESSON. 

The Object Lesson is made to range over all the 
utilities of life, and all the processes of nature. It 
begins upon things familiar to the pupils, and enlarges 
the conceptions of these, by filling in unnoticed qualities. 
It proceeds to things that have to be learnt even in their 
primary aspect by description or diagram ; and ends with 
the more abstruse operations of natural forces. 

The dangers attending it are: — (i), Superfluous 
communication, or the occupying of time with what the 
children quite well know, or will soon know of their own 



248 METHODS :— THE OBJECT LESSON. 

accord, by observation and interchange of thoughts with 
parents and companions. (2). Assuming what is not as 
yet intelligible to the pupils, or not sufficiently so to 
be a stepping-stone to higher knowledge : an error apt 
to be committed in every stage of teaching. (3). Un- 
seasonable and uncontrolled digressions; this evil we 
shall have to put in the strongest light. (4). Absence of 
consecutive arrangement ; and, generally, of instructive 
relationships, and mutual lights. 

Antecedent to all considerations of choice, arrange- 
ment, and handling of such lessons — are the fundamental 
laws of explanation by Agreement and Contrast, the laws 
of the Abstract Idea, and the course from the Known to 
the Unknown, the Simple to the Complex, the Empirical 
to the Rational. The mind of every intellectual instruc- 
tor needs to be rooted and grounded in all these matters, 
so that they may become omnipresent in the details of 
teaching. 

To la}/ down the proprieties of the Object Lesson, 
we must endeavour first to classify its different forms, 
and to ascertain its exact purpose under each. An 
order or sequence is assigned corresponding to the age 
of pupils, and this order supposes that the kinds should 
be well classed. 

Pestalozzi, one of the first propounders of the Object 
Lesson, regarded it merely as the proper way of teach- 
ing the use of Language, that is to say, it provided the 
means of knowing the things expressed by words. But 
knowledge has a prior and independent value, and is 
not an incident of correct speaking ; and we must look 
at the lesson simply as a mode of imparting knowledge. 

The Object Lesson passes by Arithmetic or Number, 



FIELDS OF THE OBJECT LESSON. 249 

the exercises in Form and Colour, Geography and His- 
tory. It introduces the pupil to three great fields — 
Natural History, Physical Science, and the Useful Arts, 
or common Utilities of every-day life. The most usual 
direction for conducting it is, first to point out the ap- 
pearance or sensible qualities of an object, and next 
to specify its uses. A better rule would be, to give the 
uses first (after the more obvious aspects) ; use is quality 
in act, and our interest in things is first excited by their 
active agency. Take, as an example, a piece of glass. 
This is held up to the view of the pupils. They have 
already had occasion to see and handle glass ; they 
know it in windows, in table glasses, in bottles, in 
looking-glasses and ornaments. It is purely a thing of 
use ; it is brought into existence for use. What, then, 
should a teacher say about it .-• He need not tell that it 
is hard, smooth, and allows things to be seen through it; 
all this the pupils know. They also know that if it is 
struck or falls, it is broken, cracked or splintered ; and, 
further, that splinters cut the hands very readily. As 
an exercise of sense perception, there seems nothing to 
be added to the knowledge of any child of five or six on 
the ordinary properties of glass. The teacher may get 
into a conversation with them, and make them express 
their knowledge in words, so as to show that they have 
been observant, and farther that they have names for 
embodying and communicating their experience. This 
much may be valuable as a stimulus to observe, and as 
an exercise in language. 

The perplexity begins, when it is proposed to extend 
this sense knowledge, by the recital of unobvious or 
hidden properties. The teacher has now twenty outlets. 



250 METHODS : — THE OBJECT LESSON. 

and which shall he choose ? Is it to be the uses that lie 
outside the scope of familiar observation ? Is it to be 
the manufacture of glass, — including the materials that 
enter into it, and the various species of glass ? Is it to 
be the discovery and history of glass ? Is it to be the 
optical properties of glass ? Is it to be the single pro- 
perty of transparency, illustrated by comparison with 
other substances ? A teacher will no doubt feel at 
once, that to a particular set of pupils some of these 
things would be wholly unintelligible. There are, how- 
ever, some points that would be within their capacity, 
and their interest ; such as, the uses of glass beyond 
their own familiar circle, and perhaps the circumstances 
of its origin and history ; also its component materials 
nakedly stated without the chemical laws of their union. 
Still, even among the intelligible outgoings, there 
must be a ground of preference ; some of them, it might 
be quite unprofitable to pursue at length. Uses that are 
mere repetition, or that inspire no interest, that might 
never be copied, that illustrate no important law of 
science — may be left without notice. The only point 
that readily occurs to me as worth dwelling upon is the 
leading circumstance in the manufacture of glass, the 
heating of sand in contact with soda or ashes. To pupils 
of seven or eight, enough might be said upon this point, 
to awaken interest, and to impress a fact for after use 
in teaching science. The striking changes produced by 
chemical combinations are highly sensational and can 
be firmly lodged in the memory, in set examples, before 
the theory is understood, and as a preparation for it. In 
that case, however, glass would not be at the beginning 
of a series of object lessons; it would need to be subse- 



INITIAL PERPLEXITIES. 25 I 

quent to * sand,' * ashes,' * soda,' and also ' heat,' in one of 
its more recondite applications. This is an example of 
the troubles of the object lesson, at the beginning ; the 
thing chosen may be familiar, but what is of interest to 
add to it may bring in something very abstruse. There 
is but a choice of difficulties. Confine yourself to what 
the pupils know, and you teach nothing ; endeavour to 
extend their knowledge, and you land them in the un- 
intelligible. Every street-Arab knows all about 'glass,' 
and has a great deal of other knowledge, which perhaps 
occupied many of the school hours of the well-trained 
youth. 

The only mode of escaping this alternation of diffi- 
culties, is to look before you leap — to see beforehand 
which way you are going, and whether or not your way 
has been already prepared. At the absolute commence- 
ment, you are stopped on every side ; still, it is expe- 
dient to make some move, and the safety lies in moving 
only a short way, in drawing but little upon previous 
knowledge. This very proper caution, however, does 
not fully meet the case. The real remedy lies in prc- 
arrangvig a set of lessons^ such that each shall be a pre- 
paration for the following, and in guiding the course of 
the tuition by reference to what has been already taught. 
This cannot be done with perfect rigidity, at the age of 
desultory knowledge, but it can be done in some degree. 
A substance might be introduced at one stage, and 
followed out just as far as previous knowledge per- 
mitted ; it might be re-introduced at a later stage, with 
new expansions. ' Glass ' at first would be noticed 
merely for observed uses and properties ; to these very 
little would be added. At a subsequent stage, its 



252 METHODS :— THE OBJECT LESSON. 

manufacture could be propounded ; and still later, its 
optics. 

The second essential of the Object Lesson is a 
definite purpose, a limitation of scope. The teacher 
should consider what is to be the drift of the lesson. 
That, at the outset, lessons are more or less desultory, 
perhaps cannot be helped ; but they should gradually be 
brought under some of the ' Unities.' Now the purposes 
are various, and should be distinctly grasped. A refer- 
ence to any of the usual examples of Object Lessons 
will show the danger of putting too much into a single 
lesson ; while, apart from a very strict consideration of 
the unities, merely keeping the new information within 
limits of quantity would render it safe. 

Let us take one of the usual examples — a bell. For 
very young children, this may be little more than an 
exercise in observation and description. The prelude 
is the incident of being called to school by the bell. 
Next, a bell is shown ; probably most of the class have 
had one in their hands. They see the cup shape, they 
notice the clapper hung inside, they see it swing, and 
knock the cup, and with that comes the sound. It 
would be quite enough for one lesson in the early stage, 
to trace cause and effect in sound by the knocking of 
one hard body on another ; adding a few parallel facts 
gathered from the pupils' own experience, and brought 
out by questioning. This of course is nothing that they 
would not ultimately know of themselves ; but, by being 
brought in early, it may be a stepping-stone to more 
recondite truth ; in fact, a first step in the ladder mount- 
ing to Acoustics. As to the many occasions when bells 



A DEFINITE PURPOSE. 253 

are used, that belongs to the popular and amusing essay, 
and does not lie in any line of mental discipline. Even 
the metallic structure is premature, although, at a later 
stage, it may come in as explanatory of the loudness of 
the bell. The lesson is managed simply as a lesson of 
cause and effect, in the empirical form, and although 
such a lesson deserves the name of Science, it does not 
pass beyond the interest and comprehension of the child 
of seven years. 

A piece of chalk, as already remarked, has been con- 
sidered as a worthy Object theme for an audience of full- 
grown people. Many sciences centre in it, and therefore 
it can be the starting-point of an agreeable excursion in 
any one of several lines. It is implicated with Zoology, 
Geology, Chemistry, and Physics, and may be made the 
occasion of stating or recalling interesting truths, in every 
one of these subjects ; all which truths are lodged in the 
memory by their connection with it. It is also impli- 
cated in numerous utilities and processes in the arts. 
There could not be a better example for the teacher, 
to be put forward by him on successive occasions ; a 
limited purpose being kept in view in each. The Zoo- 
logy and Geology should obviously be very late ; either 
after these subjects have been partially introduced, or 
with a view of introducing them for consecutive handling. 
What could be given separately as an early lesson (which 
the Arab would only by rare chance attain to), would 
be the burning of chalk and its equivalent, limestone, 
in a kiln, yielding quicklime, to be afterwards converted 
by water into slaked lime, and then used with sand for 
mortar. A strict statement of these circumstances, with- 



254 METHODS : — THE OBJECT LESSON. 

out any digressions, would be an interesting chain of 
empirical cause and effect, to be one day used in ex- 
pounding chemical and physical forces. 

When a substance is quoted solely and simply for its 
use, other things having the same use may be quoted ; 
the lesson is then a generalizing lesson, and the re- 
maining circumstances should be put on one side. Thus, 
if coal is introduced to teach combustion and heat, other 
combustible substances may be mentioned — as wood, 
rags, dried leaves, sulphur. No other facts about coal 
should be adduced in this connection, except perhaps 
in the comparison with wood, when the common origin 
might be just mentioned. The topic of the lesson con- 
sisting in the single faet of combustion^ all further refer- 
ence to the properties of heat should be foreborne, as 
belonging to a distinct lesson. 

Again, a lesson exhaustive of the uses and properties 
of a substance, should not pursue anyone property either 
by expounding its laws, or by quoting all the other things 
possessing the property. The end is, to give a full account 
of all the characters that concur in one substance — to 
group or totalize its powers and uses. This admits of 
nothing beyond the bare mention of the various uses, 
with only enough explanation to make them intelligible. 
Thus, Lead is one of the metals (two or three others 
being merely mentioned), heavy (ten times water), soft 
(for a metal), ductile, melts in an ordinary fire, does 
not rust like iron. It is used for making pipes and cis- 
terns, for bullets, for solder. The uses might to some 
extent be connected with the properties, but to do so is to 
trench on lessons of property as cause and effect. This 
is an incipient lesson in Mineralogy, and should be fol- 



THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM. 255 

lowed up by some other metals, treated in the same style, 
and by a few substances not metals. There might inter- 
vene lessons following out distinct properties throughout 
different substances, as weight, ductility, corrosibility ; 
the contrasting or negative examples being also quoted. 
By such lessons the properties would be more fully com- 
prehended, when spoken of in connection with any one 
body ; but the two kinds of lessons should never run 
into one. 

Lessons on flowers, plants, shrubs, trees, as exempli- 
fying the vegetable kingdom, come under the principles 
now illustrated; they should fall into an order tending 
to some definite purpose, and each lesson should be a 
unity. When first adduced, specimens of flowers and 
plants serve a sufficient purpose, if they bring out ob- 
servation and verbal description. For, although they 
may be familiar in general aspect, the pupils have not 
observed any one thoroughly. This they may be taught 
to do, and also to name each part of a plant — root, 
stalk, branches, leaves, flower, seed, and so on. Different 
plants may be used, for the discrimination of the parts 
simply. Then comes a lesson on a particular plant— a 
daisy, for example — to mark the forms that root, stem, 
&c., assume in it. Several others, including known 
shrubs or trees, are next adduced. Then might come 
a generalized lesson on trees, grounded on a few known 
examples ; going no farther in the first instance than 
to indicate the notable features of magnitude, strength, 
hold in the ground, branching, leaves, and flowers. The 
growth, maturity and death of trees, would need several 
separate lessons ; and distinct from these would be the 
sources of nourishment, by the roots and the leaves ; 



256 METHODS:— THE OBJECT LESSON. 

which would be an empirical lesson in advance of the 
science of Vegetable Physiology. 

Before including animals among the examples, I will 
give the third law of the Object Lesson, which has re- 
ference to its use in adding to the store of concrete con- 
ceptions : this is commonly expressed by saying that it 
cultivates or enlarges the Conceptive Faculty or the Ima- 
gination. Basing upon what the child already knows and 
conceives, unknown objects may be pictured forth, and 
so laid hold of, as permanent imagery for after uses. It 
is thus that children may be made to conceive in a dim 
form, the camel of the desert, the palm tree, the Pyra- 
mids of Egypt. Now, as far as the power of conceiving 
goes, there is not so much evil in being desultory ; a ram- 
bling style may favour the culture of this faculty. Any- 
thing that makes an impression, makes a recollection. 

But a teacher may readily overrate his power of 
adding to the stores of concrete conceptions by means 
of description, and may still more readily mistake the 
bearing of the object lesson on this acquirement. The 
earliest display of the power of obtaining new concep- 
tions of things not experienced is strongly, not to say 
grossly, anthropomorphic ; and is the result of piquant 
narrative. A cold lesson on lead, or on glass, on a soap- 
bubble, or on clouds, does little for the power of conceiv- 
ing the absent concrete ; its chief agency is to impress 
the known more fully and clearly, and thus to prepare for 
the future operation of figuring the unknown. Indeed 
it is only at a very advanced stage, when the object 
lesson is swallowed up in the methodical study of Geo- 
graphy and History, that it can be properly mentioned 
as an aid to the increase of conceptions formed by the 



LESSONS ON ANIMALS. 257 

mind's own force of combining the unknown out of the 
known. The only seeming exception to this view will 
come out presently, in dealing with the examples taken 
from animals. It is in this class that the licence of 
digression runs wildest. In proportion as the characters 
of the humblest animal exceed the utmost that can be 
said of either mineral or plant, the teacher's selection 
needs the control of a methodical procedure. 

The first introduction of animals in lessons generally 
turns upon their broad mental characteristics, which are 
intelligible to every child ; their search for food, their 
victimizing other animals for the purpose, their amiable 
traits as regards their young, their human attachments. 
A short narrative framed to bring out these, with the 
interest of a plot, is both engrossing and impressive, 
and is readily received by the memory. By virtue 
of such interest the form and physiognomy of animals 
is stamped on the mind. If the teacher is cautious, he 
may make a start from here, and travel into some of 
the minutiae of the natural history of the animal, as its 
claws, its teeth, its hair, its wool, its feathers, and may 
render these still more familiar. To proceed beyond 
this point, he will have to make a choice of ways, ex- 
actly as with the plant, but with still greater embarras. 
There is the same amount of peril, in both cases, the 
attempt at comparison with other animals, either gene- 
rically related — as the cat, tiger, lion — or more distant — 
as when the cat and dog are compared. Comparison 
should not begin without adequate preparation, that is, 
without the previous mention of the most suitable in- 
stances ; and when it is made, it should be rigid, thorough, 
and to the point : it should aim at forming a class, Avith 



258 methods: — THE OBJECT LESSON. 

class attributes, to the neglect of the differences between 
the several members of the class. 

As in the plant, the other method and the method 
that is prior in order, is Individuality, or the mention of 
particular characters, without running comparisons or 
contrasts, and with only so much expansion as amounts 
to being intelligible. In describing the rooks and their 
rookery, for example, it is very well to state their 
manner of feeding, their coupling to build their nests, 
their associating in multitudes and behaving like a 
society. All this belongs to the individual subject ; but 
it is a misplaced digression to be led off to social animals 
generally, as bees, ants, and beavers. That is a theme by 
itself^ the theme of Generality — to be taken up after due 
preparation. It should be preceded by the detail of the 
most remarkable examples, and discussed solely with a 
view of comparison and contrast of the different species. 

In the individual descriptions, a passing allusion may 
be made to another species (especially if already brought 
under the notice of the pupils), but it should be merely 
illustrative of a meaning, and should not be pursued. 

To exemplify the several maxims governing the Ob- 
ject Lesson, I will take the example of the Camel. This 
animal has not been seen by the pupils, but they will 
be shown the picture of it. It should not be an early 
example. The more familiar home animals of the use- 
ful and domesticated kind, — including, the horse, ass, 
cow, sheep, deer, &c. — should precede. We are not 
bound to the strict order of a Zoological description, yet 
there is a method to be observed in bringing forward the 
points. First, the camel may be designated as a beast of 
burden ; that is not only a comprehensive circumstance, 



EXAMPLE OF THE CAMEL. 259 

the key to much that follows, but it recognizes use as 
property in act. A very briefly stated comparison may 
be allowed to other animals of the same use — horse, ass, 
reindeer, elephant ; but the property is not to be dwelt 
upon as if it were the theme of the lesson. The interest 
of the animal turns upon its structural adaptations to a 
peculiar situation, namely, the desert. Here we have a 
double subject, with mutual bearings ; it is a case of 
correlation where the order is not absolute. We may, 
however, begin with the situation, that is, with the desert, 
but may describe it only so far as it concerns the camel; we 
may give the facts or features, without the whole chain 
of causation, which is a quite distinct lesson, belonging to 
the strict sphere of Geography. ' In many parts of 
Africa, Arabia, and Syria, there are large tracts devoid 
of water, and of vegetation, except at long intervals, 
the surface being dry sand or naked rock ; the occurrence 
of water accompanied with vegetation makes what is 
called the " oasis " in the desert.' It is quite extraneous 
to mount to the causes of the water, in the deficiency 
of rainfall, owing to distance from great oceans, and so 
forth. Next is the form and structure of the camel. 
The singularity of the hump concentrates a part of the 
external description ; so its growing smaller in the ab- 
sence of food, as being a reserve of sustenance. Then 
comes the stomach, which in general make resembles 
the stomach of the ox, the sheep, the deer (called the ru- 
minating stomach), but differs from these in being able 
to store food and water for long periods. Feet spread- 
ing, and not compact like the horse's ; thus fitted for the 
sand. The eye protected from the sand that blows up 
in the desert. The knee adapted to kneeling down, for 



260 METHODS : — THE OBJECT LESSON. 

the reception of its load. All this description has its 
interest and relevancy solely from the point of view of 
use. The naturalist's description would be far more 
exhaustive, and would comprise points that have no ob- 
vious adaptations. 

Hitherto we have seen in the Object Lesson a mode 
of approaching the Natural History Sciences, as Mine- 
ralogy and Botany ; we shall afterwards see its application 
to Geography and to History. The three maxims that 
have been exemplified, namely, (i) Sequence, (2) Indi- 
viduality, and (3) Generality, are directly pointed to this 
class of lessons. But the Natural History Sciences lead 
up to the Primary or Fundamental Sciences — Mathe- 
matics, Physics, Chemistry, &c., in which are found the 
final explanation of all the active agencies of nature ; 
everything expressed by power, force, causation — the 
laws of Motion, the forces of Gravity, Heat, Electricity, 
Vitality, and so forth. We do not know the phenomena 
of nature, until we know them as produced and pro- 
ducing according to their general laws. 

Natural History descriptions contain a tacit reference 
to these higher powers. A mineral has specific gravity ; 
that implicates the great power of Gravitation, It has 
transparency and refracting power ; that implicates Heat. 
It has composition, which implicates Chemistry, But the 
mineralogist knows his business ; he merely alludes to 
these great powers, he does not set them forth in me- 
thodical exposition. The reserve in this respect is not 
always copied by the Object Lesson naturalist ; there is a 
tendency to rush on from the natural properties as de- 
scriptive characters, to the full exposition of their work- 



APPROACH TO THE PRIMARY SCIENCES. 26 1 

ing,— to make Natural Science absorb the Primary 
Sciences. 

It is possible, by means of the Object Lesson, to 
approach the Primary Sciences, namely. Physics, Che- 
mistry, and the rest, with the view of explaining Matter 
and Motion, Gravity, Heat and Light; but the manner 
of doing so needs the gravest consideration. There must 
be a clear disentanglement from the Lessons on the Na- 
tural History type, whether Individual or General ; all 
the more so that there may and must be points of con- 
tact with these, because the same concrete things enter 
into both. Thus, for instance, Lead may be the basis of 
a lesson in mineralogy, whether individual, as exhausting 
its properties, or general, as under the class ' metals ' ; but 
it also comes forward in physical and chemical Science, 
under Gravity, Heat, Chemical Combination, and so on. 
In this last case, however, it is merely one example of a 
countless number of things that are equally suitable for 
expounding the great physical forces ; Gravity, Heat, and 
Chemistry have an unlimited choice of examples to show 
their operation. 

It being assumed that the best and only perfect way of 
explaining the primary sciences is on their own method- 
ical plan, as laid out in a course of Physics or Chemistry, 
the question before us is how to manage those interesting 
anticipations of the leading doctrines, fitted to the age 
when the regular course cannot be understood, paving 
the way for that course, and making up a body of infor- 
mation valuable so far as it goes, even if the pupil never 
passes through the final curriculum. 

So great and manifold are the advantages of follow- 
ing the regular order, that the teacher should always be 
13 



262 METHODS: — THE OBJECT LESSON. 

looking forward to the time when the advancing intel- 
ligence makes that possible. And further, he should 
tacitly keep this order in his mind, even when working 
on the seemingly desultory plan. Thus, among the 
earliest lessons that implicate physical doctrines. Mo- 
tion, as exemplified in visible bodies, should have a chief 
place. The force of Gravity should precede the more 
subtle forces of Heat and Magnetism. 

When we enquire farther into the principles regulat- 
ing this kind of teaching, we find that the lesson belongs 
to the empirical ioxTa of knowledge ; the meaning of which 
is, that facts are stated fully, faithfully, correctly, but not 
explained or referred to the ultimate principles or laws 
that they come under. The phenomena of the Tides 
can be described fully and correctly in the empirical 
form, as it was known before Newton ; while in the early 
lessons in science, the pupil cannot be made to under- 
stand how they arise from gravitation. The statement 
may be given that they arise from the gravitation of 
the sun and moon, but this cannot be fully shown, or 
correctly conceived, except by the pupil that is pursuing 
Astronomy in regular course, after a due mathematical 
preparation. It is merely confusing the mind to assign 
a cause in vague terms, as Gravity or Electricity, when 
it is not possible to make the working of the cause 
intelligible. Little good is done by saying that thunder 
and lightning is a fact of electricity, when electricity 
itself is not understood. Still, an object lesson in thun- 
der discharges might be given, which would comprise 
the main visible circumstances, together with the atmo- 
spheric accompaniments and surroundings, in so far as 
conceivable by the pupils addressed. The antecedent 



EMPIRICAL FORM OF THE LESSON. 263 

circumstance of excessive heat in the weather, the ga- 
thering of the dark cloud, the deepening of the gloom, 
the lightning flash, or thunderbolt, often the destruction 
of buildings and animal life, the booming of the thunder, 
at a varying interval indicating distance, the deluge of 
rain — might all be described, partly recalling the expe- 
rience of the pupils, partly awakening their minds to 
watch the next storm, partly extending their own obser- 
vations by depicting the usual forms of the lightning, 
and stating instances of its effects, but not embarking 
upon the theory of atmospheric electricity, nor even 
naming it, further than to say that they will at some 
future time be made to understand a great deal more 
about the phenomena. Whether or not the teacher 
should use the opportunity of bringing forward the some- 
what easy and yet interesting and intelligible fact that 
sound occupies time in reaching our ears, depends 
upon the course of the tuition. Such a fact might be 
previously brought forward in a lesson on Sound and 
Echoes ; if this were so, it would receive a passing 
reference, and an impressive exemplification in connec- 
tion with the lesson on Thunder. But as regards any 
lesson in Primary Science, the great caution is against 
overloading ; the pupil must not be led to suppose that 
there is but one chance of explaining half a dozen na- 
tural laws stretching out into several sciences. Because 
all the sciences meet in Water, that is not a reason for 
embracing them all in a single lesson, nor indeed for 
attaching them to that one object. The laws applicable 
to water are applicable to a thousand other substances ; 
many of these sufficiently familiar. The Tides might be 
given as a water lesson ; but we may just as easily start it 



264 methods:— THE OBJECT LESSON. 

under the name * Tides,' as under the name Water. The 
most suitable designation would probably be ' The Tides 
of the Ocean.' Its regular place would be somewhere in 
Physical Geography ; but it might be given at a still 
earlier point in the child's course. 

When choosing an Object Lesson, we should think 
more of the principles to be taught than of the text ; 
the selection of the text is only the second consideration. 
We must not be dominated by our text Object. We 
may make the Ocean the text for a lesson on the Tides, 
but we are not to be led off into facts regarding the 
ocean that are unconnected with the special phenomenon 
of tidal action. There is a unity in the subject of the 
' Tides ' ; the unity belonging to an Object Lesson in 
the primary sciences — a phenomenal unity. There is no 
unity in the subject of the Ocean, until we have first 
determined what use we are to make of it. 

The texts suitable for the present kind of lessons are 
given by a class of names different from the names of 
the two foregoing classes. There are names that point 
to natural objects^as water, iron, an oak, a horse, a 
star, a mountain ; such are the starting points of the pre- 
vious lessons — those in Natural History, Geography, and 
the like. There are other names that call to mind the 
processes, powers, and operations of the world — as weight, 
heat, dew, attraction, polarity, respiration ; these are the 
names that give the most convenient start to the science 
lessons that we are now considering: although any 
one lesson might be associated with the more concrete 
names. A heat lesson might begin from water ; an elec- 
tricity lesson from iron : but this is not the course to be 
recommended ; it has a false glare of simplicity. Each 



EXAMPLE OF THE ATMOSPHERE. 265 

lesson should be taken for what it is, and connected with 
the name that best indicates and circumscribes it. 

The ' Atmosphere ' is a common example of the 
Object Lesson. It cannot be called a happy or a 
convenient starting point. Nothing could be a worse 
policy than to attempt to exhaust (if it were possible) 
the natural facts implied in it — its physical, chemical, 
and biological relations. We could merely nibble at 
them ; we should teach nothing thoroughly ; not to 
speak of the evil of perplexing the mind of the pupil. 
The proper use to make of the Atmosphere, as a text, 
would be the Natural History use; it would be an Indi- 
vidual or concrete lesson, whose properties or peculiari- 
ties should be simply enumerated as Natural History. 
Beginning with its position on the earth's surface, we 
might give its supposed height, its mass or weight, its 
gaseous character, its transparency. We then go on to its 
composition, which would require us to enumerate Nitro- 
gen, Oxygen, Water, &c., with perhaps a word or two 
to render these as intelligible as the state of advancement 
of the pupils would allow. We should certainly reserve 
all questions connected with the origin of the water con- 
stituent or vapour, which would carry us out of the lesson 
into a totally different track ; we could simply mention 
briefly that the water constituent was of variable amount, 
and, while in great part invisible like the others, had 
visible manifestations in clouds and mist, ending in rain. 
No more of that, if we mean to finish the lesson in its 
Natural History type. We then go on to a similarly 
guarded and severely curbed enunciation of the carbonic 
acid constituent — its amount, its character (as the gas 



266 METHODS: — THE OBJECT LESSON. 

formed by the burning of charcoal, wood or coal), its 
function in supplying food to vegetation. There would 
still remain the smaller constituents, including the effluvia 
of the earth's surface, animal germs, &c., which could be 
simply mentioned, without being pursued. 

To penetrate deeper into the mysteries of the atmo- 
sphere, to trace the numerous laws of causation involved 
in it, the lessons must follow other tracks, and be viewed 
in wider connections. An example or two will help 
to explain our meaning. The primary property of the 
atmosphere is the fact, not apparent at first glance, 
that the air is material and inert like the visible and 
tangible bodies around us. A very good object lesson 
might be contrived to exhibit this circumstance, which 
possesses the interest of agreeable surprise. The proofs 
and illustrations from resistance of the air, wind, and 
so on, are well known and highly impressive. But this 
lesson would really be a lesson on the inertness of 
matter ; and would in fact have for its proper designa- 
tion — Matter and Motion. As resistance to our energies, 
exhibited by solid and liquid masses, would be the first 
circumstance of the lesson, the illustration would be 
naturally carried out to air, thus establishing the mate- 
rial quality of the air. Then as to the weight and pres- 
sure of the atmosphere, there would be a natural alliance 
with a lesson on Gravity or Weight, which might be 
made intelligible at an early stage, although still in a 
considerable degree empirical. It would not be among 
the earliest lessons of a scientific tendency ; for its 
adequate handling would presuppose the globular 
form of the earth, and some general conception of the 
solar system. Next to the weight of air, is its elasticity ; 



EXAMPLE OF THE ATMOSPHERE. ' 267 

this would come under a mechanical lesson on Elastic 
bodies or springs ; from such a lesson we ought not to 
omit the spring of the air. Yet we could not properly 
follow out, in the same lesson, the interesting conse- 
quences of the spring or elasticity of air combined with 
gravity, as the rarefaction of the air in the upper regions ; 
this would want a lesson to itself. 

The constitution of the atmosphere as made up of 
Nitrogen and Oxygen appeals to Chemistry, and to 
Chemistry we must go, but on some other occasion. For 
the present lesson, Oxygen receives a few suggestive 
touches, yet only in empirical statements, shaped accord- 
ing to what is known of the pupil's previous course. At 
best such statements are incomplete and unsatisfactory, 
if not even misleading ; the only safeguard is, not to be 
carried away by an attempt to explain them. 

The water constituent of the atmosphere, with its 
wonderful transformations and its perpetual cycle, is, if 
we may judge from the lesson books, a favourite topic 
of object teaching. The one fact of Dew is the more 
especial favourite ; although in point of difficulty, it 
makes a very advanced lesson in Physics, as taught in a 
regular course. This is a good case for exemplifying 
what to do and what to avoid in the Object Lesson, and 
may help us to see the necessarily empiric character of 
the early scientific teaching. 

Because the teacher is debarred by the capacity and 
knowledge of the pupils from a scientific lecture, it does 
not follow that he should be incapable of giving such a 
lecture, or be ignorant of the place that the subject 
would occupy in a connected syllabus of the Sciences. 
It is far better that he should know this, in order to 



268 METHODS : — THE OBJECT LESSON. 

know why and how he is to depart from it. Thus, 
in a course of Natural Philosophy or Physics, ' Dew ' is 
explained, under Heat, which subject is preceded in the 
course by Dynamics, Hydrostatics, and Pneumatics. A 
wide basis of physical knowledge has thus been laid in 
the mind of the regular student ; in particular the laws 
of motion, and the law of gravity, have been applied 
fully to solids, liquids, and gases ; while, in the subject 
of Heat, where Dew comes in, some of the leading facts 
have been expounded, as the expansion of bodies, lique- 
faction, and vaporization, and their opposites, with the 
doctrine of latent heat. Stored with all these prepa- 
ratory explanations, the regular student of Physics is 
introduced to the topic of Dew ; and the teacher still 
finds a good deal to say before it is completely mastered 
by a youth of average intelligence. Taking all this into 
account, we should naturally despair of bringing before 
pupils of ten a subject that fairly tasks the powers and 
the acquired knowledge of a pupil of sixteen. Such 
would be our first thoughts. The second and better 
thoughts are to consider what limitations, omissions, 
precautions, the altered circumstances impose upon such 
a lesson.. We begin by stating to ourselves the reasons 
for making the attempt at all ; namely, to engage the 
attention of the young mind with the facts, appearances, 
and operations of the world, so as to have some impres- 
sions that the regular teacher can afterwards work upon ; 
for the professor of Physics, in his lecture on Dew, would 
be very much at a disadvantage with pupils that had 
never even noticed the wetness of the grass on a morning 
after a clear and rainless night. We next recall the cir- 
cumstance, that cause and effect, in some form or other. 



EXAMPLE OF DEW. 269 

is noticeable by and intelligible to the youngest capacity, 
and even seizes hold of the attention of its own accord ; 
nay, more, that the youngest mind will form an induction 
to itself of the conditions of any startling change. Every 
child is a self-taught natural philosopher in such matters 
as the fall of rain, the wetting of the ground and the 
filling of the water channels ; and will reason, from the 
occurrence of wetness and rushing streams, that rain has 
just fallen. To guide, rectify, direct and forward this 
spontaneous observation and reasoning is the purpose of 
the teacher in the lessons that we are now considering ; 
with the serious drawback, however, that the perfect form 
of the truths cannot yet be imparted ; and that, on the 
way to the perfect form, the pupil has to pass through 
several forms that are imperfect. 

Before applying these reflections to the case of Dew, 
the remark is significant and helpful, that a century ago 
Dew was not understood at all ; until Black had ex- 
pounded latent heat, and Dalton studied the consti- 
tution of the steam atmosphere, no satisfactory account 
could be given of the phenomenon. Still it was not 
entirely unknown, and such knowledge as was possessed 
was correct and useful. This shows us that there are 
forms of knowledge, short of the highest, that yet possess 
value. That former knowledge of Dew was empirical 
knowledge ; and the knowledge that we give to children 
in advance of the perfect form we have designated 
empirical too. It is so, however, not by the necessity of 
the case, as it was to our fathers, but by deliberate and 
artificial shaping on our part. We know the real solu- 
tion, the rational explanation ; but we withhold it as 
premature. 



270 METHODS: — THE OBJECT LESSON. 

Yet, here is the advantage of our position ; we can 
use our full knowledge to improve the empirical state- 
ment, to make it less removed from fact, and more full 
and intelligible for its immediate purpose. We can let 
drop forecasting hints as to what the pupil will one day 
fully understand ; we can even tell the real cause in a 
general way, while we cannot point out all the steps. It 
does no harm to complete the empirical account of 
the Tides by the indication that they are due to the 
united attraction of the Sun and the Moon ; our error 
is to attempt to show this in the detail to pupils that 
are incapable of abstract dynamical conceptions. We 
can give them a very valuable lesson without an over- 
vaulting and premature attack upon the citadel. We 
engage attention and observation upon a great terres- 
trial fact, we plant a large conception in the mind, we 
give a proximate explanation of a phenomenon of per- 
petual occurrence ; we sum up in a generality a host of 
scattered appearances : we are thereby justified in put- 
ting forward the subject as a knowledge lesson in ad- 
vance of the pupil's attendance in the Natural Philosophy 
class room. 

To resume the example of Dew. While the lesson 
is avowedly given to those that cannot understand the 
reasons or explanations, and, therefore, does not presup- 
pose all the knowledge that should properly go before, it 
still needs some previous preparation of mind, and must 
take shape according to the supposed knowledge of the 
class. It ought not to be given without certain other 
lessons ; such as, the materiality of the atmosphere ; 
the three states of matter as depending on heat — a very 
good example of an empirical lesson ; the boiling of 



EXAMPLE OF DEW. 2/1 

water ; the difference between gaseous water proper 
and visible vapour or steam ; the drying up of wet sur- 
faces, and of ponds of water; the heating of the air 
by the heat of the day, and its cooHng at night. Such 
points being premised, the lesson might assume this 
form : —Water, when disappearing by drying, becomes a 
gas diffused in the atmosphere. The atmosphere does 
not hold above a certain quantity. What is the conse- 
quence .'' Either the drying must stop, or it must be 
thrown down again to the earth. It is thrown down 
in the form of water as rain. This is the chief mode 
of returning to the earth. Before it appears as rain, 
it exists as clouds, which feed the rain. Rain comes 
when the air is cooled by the vicissitudes of day and 
night, and by changes in the wind ; the great fact is 
coldness. We can obtain water from air in various 
ways, if we cool it enough. The ground becomes cold 
at night, and the surface is wetted, although there has 
been no rain. 

The sum and substance of the lesson would be to 
connect drying with the heat of the air, and the return 
to water with its cooling; to impress which in broad 
general terms would be quite as much as could be 
done in one lesson. Obviously, the rain and cloud 
lesson should precede the lesson on Dew, which is an 
exceedingly subtle consequence of the general fact. 
The reasons why dew is absent altogether on some 
nights, and why in one night some bodies are dewed 
and others not, cannot be imparted intelligibly without 
a distinct lesson. The statements might be given as 
empirical facts, that grass and wool are more liable to- 
be dewed than stone and metal ; but the theory of sur- 



272 METHODS : — GEOGRAPHY. 

face radiation and of its differences in different bodies 
should not be foisted in for the first time in a Dew les- 
son ; either it should have occurred in a previous lesson, 
or it ought to be entirely withheld, leaving only the 
empirical statement. It is the very essence of the Ob- 
ject Lesson to be empirical. 

In an Appendix note, the niceties of the lesson in 
Primary Science are further brought out by a critical 
review of some select examples. To this is added a 
discussion of the forms assumed by the Lesson as arising 
in the explanation of words that occur in the reading 
books. 

Geography. 

The aims of Geography are very well-defined. The 
conception of occupied space is its foundation ; it is the 
all-embracing framework of the outer world in its or- 
derly arrangement. On the great scale, it gives a place 
to everything, and peoples every place. It is the greatest 
task of the pure conceptive power, in its literal or matter- 
of-fact working, as opposed to the imaginative or emo- 
tion-prompted working; this alone would make it a late 
study, as the child has but little concrete conceptive 
faculty, and that little is disturbed by the intrusion of 
strong emotional effects. 

A long series of lessons on the isolated objects of 
the outer world — implements of utility, minerals, plants, 
and animals — serve as part preparation for the vast geo- 
graphical field ; but that field opens up an entirely new 
exercise of the conceiving power, which must be grounded 
on a distinct line of observation and experience. The 
simplest objects of Geography — hills, rivers, plains, 



THE child's local SURROUNDINGS. 2/3 

oceans, cities — are immense aggregates, while the idea 
of the science is, to seize in orderly array the multitudes 
of these that make up the surface of the peopled earth. 

For introducing the elements of Geography by means 
of object lessons, the chance impressions of a child of 
eight or nine seem wholly inadequate. It would be 
necessary to take the class out of doors, in Saturday 
excursions, to mark with express attention the surround- 
ing scenery in its comprehensive aspects, and to conceive 
the town or village, as a whole, with form and parts. It 
is from some commanding eminence that a pupil should 
receive first impressions of Geography, if the subject is 
to be taught according to the prevailing wish for con- 
crete reahzation. In a district that is flat and mono- 
tonous, like our Eastern counties, there is scarcely the 
material for geographical conceptions ; while to vast 
numbers of people, a notion of the sea, simple as that 
notion is, is utterly debarred. Few are unpossessed of 
some notion of a flowing stream, by which to conceive 
a river as a moving body of water ; but the geography 
of a river in all its expansion, demands previous ac- 
quaintance with mountains, valleys, plains, and seas. 

Inadequate and difficult as the propaideutic may be, 
it is creditable to the schoolmaster to make the attempt 
to force attention upon the actual surroundings of the 
pupils, and to work these up into conceptions of other 
places difierently arranged, — to use the experience of 
sunshine and rain, of heat and cold, of snow and ice, 
for conceiving countries where the hottest days at home 
are the constant fact, and others where ice and snow 
endure three parts of the year. All this is the legitimate 
culture of the conceptive faculty, as a means of know- 



274 METHODS :— GEOGRAPHY. * 

ledge and truth ; the chief error to be avoided being the 
premature entry upon a very high accomplishment. 

In adopting, for a lesson, any one of the great geo- 
graphical elements — for example, a river — the laws or 
method of the object lesson need to be very narrowly 
observed. The greater difficulty and vastness of the 
conception requires still more peremptory attention both 
to sequence, and to the unities. The point of sequence 
has just been touched upon, and ought to be more self- 
evident for this kind of lesson than for those already 
described. The adherence to unity of plan, as against 
temptations to digress, will ever be the hardest task 
of the teacher in object lessons, and it is most of 
all requisite in Geography. Thus, in the example 
of the River, one distinct lesson, and indeed the main 
lesson, in the geography scheme, is to conceive the 
visible aspect of the flowing waters, in the main stream, 
and in all its branches, from the first rills emerging out of 
the oozy hill tops and hill sides. To make up one visible 
picture of a river tree, as if from a bird's-eye view of its 
entire basin, all collateral explanations must be resolutely 
withstood ; and if the first source of the whole — the rain 
— is mentioned, it should be no more than mentioned, 
while all the numerous relations of rivers to the fertilizing 
of the land, the supply of water to cities, navigation, 
and so forth, should be omitted from the primary lesson. 
Hill and valley are already assumed, and the river located 
with reference to them ; the final debouching in the ocean 
is to be mentioned without being followed into any of 
its consequences. It is enough for a week's lesson, by 
iteration and examination to stamp the mere visible plan 
of a typical river with its tributaries, brooks, rivulets, and 



CAUSE AND EFFECT IN ABEYANCE. 275 

cascades. All comparisons and contrasts should be re- 
manded to a lesson, or lessons, on Rivers as a class, with 
class agreements and differences. The other excluded 
topics, and forbidden digressions, are matters pertinent 
and proper to be known in connection with a river ; but 
each has a place and connection suitable to itself. The 
ultimate source of rivers — the rainfall — belongs to the 
department of Physical Geography, or else to the physical 
science of Meteorology. The use of rivers in draining 
off superfluous water at some points, and supplying 
water at others, is quite a different department, and may 
be subdivided into several topics. The connection of 
rivers with towns, as ministering to numerous wants and 
conveniences, comes in for full treatment at a late part 
of the subject, although passing allusions may occur 
in a variety of the early lessons, as under ' water,' which 
is a point of departure for numerous lessons on the ob- 
ject plan. 

Cause and effect is at all times an impressive circum- 
stance ; but we have seen that the efficacy of causation 
lies in bringing about an effort of abstraction, which 
interferes with the concreteness of the visible picture. 
It would be well, once for all, to attain a good pictorial 
impression of a river basin, as it is spread out to the 
actual view, before, and apart from, contemplating the 
numerous exemplifications of causal agency that it sup- 
plies ; all which, when known at another stage, may re- 
act on the concrete conception, by supporting some of 
its constituent notions, without dissolving the picture. 
Thus, assuming the rainfall as the ultimate river supply, 
the influence of rainy weather in swelling all the afflu- 



2/6 METHODS : — GEOGRAPHY. 

ents, and in enlarging the mass and impetus of the final 
stream, is highly operative as an aid to the picture. 

A Town is a very suitable object lesson, at an early 
stage, as contributing to Geography and to other pur- 
poses. There should be the same adherence to the 
visible or pictorial conception, in the first instance ; the 
same avoidance of digressions, until that conception 
should be firmly fixed. Subsequent lessons, returning 
to the subject, could deal with the reasons of town 
arrangements, and with interesting details, under specific 
heads ; while the comparison of several towns would 
exemplify the standing lesson of expounding a class, by 
agreements and differences. 

The pictorial view of Geographical subjects is supposed 
to be aided by sketches from nature. But here we en- 
counter a new danger the supplanting of the original 
reality, so arduous to the feeble conceptive powers of 
childhood, by the more easily comprehended sketch. 
Young and old alike, on seeing a good picture, are apt 
to rest there. Such is the tendency of all representa- 
tions, sketches, maps, and the rest. The most valuable 
helps to Geography are models, and if these could be 
multiplied in schools, the conceptions of the general form 
of countries would be vastly enhanced ; while the subse- 
quent lessons of juxtaposition and relative situation would 
find a groundwork of remarkable cohesiveness. 

In the manuals of Teaching, much is made of the 
necessity of introducing the pupils to the meaning of a 
Map, by showing plans of the school, and of surrounding 
things known to them. They are in fact too ready to 
accept the map as the subject-matter of the future les- 
sons ; on it they can see the situation of countries, the 



SKETCHES FROM NATURE. — MAPS. 277 

course of rivers, the outline of coasts, and everything 
that they are expected to giv^e information upon ; and 
to make them rise from the map to the actual conception 
of the ground is an attempt too difficult to sustain ; it 
can be done but rarely, and under special helps. What 
the map cannot show, the pupils learn in verbal state- 
ments, which are remembered as such. 

The Compass is an easy object lesson, implicated as 
it must be with the course of the sun. It is a higher 
stretch, but by no means difficult to children of eight or 
nine, to grasp the foundations of latitude and longitude 
in the form of the earth, which may be quoted for this 
purpose, without involving anything beyond. The idea 
of laying out a surface into compartments, by cross lines 
at equal intervals, is sufficiently easy, and is important 
as a key to the orderly arrangement of the things con- 
tained. 

At all stages of Geography, local situation, form, 
magnitude should be a distinct effort of memory, and 
should be held in the rnind as visible facts, grounded on 
the map or model. The impression may be very much 
assisted and strengthened by the varied information re- 
lating to cause and effect, and the mutual relationships, 
but these should not be given until a certain hold of the 
visible order on the map has been secured. There is 
one important rule in all teaching, viz. to separate the 
fact from the reason, and to describe the fact first, that it 
may be understood and imbibed as such. This applies to 
the vast subject of geographical relationships ; the sur- 
face is given first as a fact, and afterwards considered in 
the numerous links of dependence existing among the 
different elements that make up a tract of country. 



278 METHODS : — GEOGRAPHY. 

The art of laying up in the memory geographical 
positions involves very delicate manipulation on the 
part of the teacher. The method of proceeding is 
that embodied in the rhetorical principles governing 
Description ; the chief being to start with a compre- 
hensive plan or outline, and to subdivide the whole 
. into parts, either at once, or by successive divisions, 
as the case may require. At the stage of progress 
when pupils are expected to take up the map of Britain, 
they are competent to view the globe as a whole, 
with its divisions into continents and seas, and to 
descend by regular subdivision to our own country. 
The operation is as easy on the large scale as on the 
small. 

The School-books give in unexceptionable order the 
topics tjo be stated in connection with the map of any 
part of the earth — larger or smaller. Of only recent 
introduction is the method of describing, that pictures 
out the surface in orderly array, dividing it into moun- 
tain ranges, valleys, plains, and giving these in their 
proper positions. The system was exemplified on the 
great scale by Ritter, and first carried out in this country 
in the ' Penny Cyclopaedia.' It has since found its way 
into the smaller manuals, the earliest to adopt it being 
the manual of William Hughes. When the pupil is 
sufHciently advanced for a manual of this kind, the 
teacher's path is made quite plain. The following out 
of the position, boundaries, form, magnitude, and gene- 
ral aspect and features of the country, into the conse- 
quences entailed by these on the vegetable and animal 
products ; the enumeration of those products ; the ac- 
count of the inhabitants, and their industries and social 



DESCRIPTIVE AND PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. 279 

condition (Political Geography), — are all suflficicntly well 
done in many text-books. 

The science called ' Physical Geography ' is some- 
thing intermediate between ordinary Geography and the 
higher sciences, namely, Physics, Chemistry, Meteorology, 
Botany, Zoology, and Geology. It introduces conside- 
rations of cause and effect into Geographical facts, by 
selecting and stating in empirical form the principles 
methodically taught in the regular and fundamental 
sciences. A course of Physical Geography is subse- 
quent and supplementary to proper Geography, while 
reacting upon it in the way that causation operates upon 
the knowledge of facts. It is also an introduction to 
the mother sciences; but until the principles are studied 
in their due order and dependence in these sciences also, 
they do not leave their mark behind them. 

The teacher is tempted, now and then, to bring 
under the proper or descriptive Geography the scien- 
tific explanations of physical geography. Any such ex- 
planations should be very short and allusory ; the two 
departments should be by no means intermingled. 

There is a still greater temptation to include History 
with the descriptive Geography. This serves a purpose 
in rendering more intelligible and interesting many of 
the facts, especially of Political Geography. It should, 
however, be very shortly and sparingly done; being 
confined to the exact purpose of aiding Geography 
proper. Attention is properly called to features that 
determined great historical events, as a preparation for 
the study of the history, but without dragging in the 
history there and then. There is a separate branch of 
knowledge, falling under Political Philosophy, or Socio- 



280 METHODS : — GEOGRAPHY 

logy, which traces the dependence of the social arrange- 
ments and social development of mankind upon physical 
circumstances. An interesting and salient fact taken 
from this department may be occasionally noticed in 
geographical teaching, but the department as a whole 
cannot be absorbed into School Geography. Like Phy- 
sical Geography, it must have a place in the curriculum 
all to itself. At the same time, it is a merit in the Geo- 
graphy teacher to forecast this application, and unobtru- 
sively provide for it. 

In Geography, much has to be learnt as words, or 
little more ; the verbal memory has a large share in 
the acquisition. In this view, the names should be re- 
lieved of dryness by various arts, as well as by endea- 
vouring to impress real conceptions corresponding to 
them. Yet we must not overrate the conceptive power 
of young pupils, in a subject that in a great measure 
excludes the strong emotions. That a youth of ten 
.should conceive the plains of India, with their vertical 
sun, their peculiar vegetation, their animals, and their 
swarming dusky population, is not to be supposed. The 
best arranged series of object lessons cannot prepare the 
mind for all the characteristic plants and animals of a 
tropical region ; while the constructive effort that gives 
them their places in the landscape is possible only in 
the full maturity of the mind, and is even then attained 
by a very small number of persons. 

Geography may in various ways be connected with 
the exercise of drawing. The drawing of maps im- 
presses a country, just as copying a passage in a book 
impresses the author's language and meaning. In those 
cases where drawing is followed out as a fascination it 



EARLIEST HISTORY LESSONS. 28 1 

carries with it an interest in the face of nature, and an 
enhanced power of conceiving the pictorial aspects of 
the world. In addition to which, the influence of poetry- 
may come in aid of the geographical concrete. Tenny- 
son's ' Brook ' is the rendering of one of the numerous 
affluents of a mightv river. 

HISTORY. 

The transition from Geography to Histoiy is natural, 
when History is conceived in its highest or final form. 
But, as a subject of teaching, History passes through 
many different shapes. In those early narratives that 
seem indispensable to the interest of the first reading 
lessons, being almost the only device for riveting the 
attention of the very young, we have the initiation into 
history ; indeed, the persistent catering for stories brings 
the teacher at last to actual History, through the inter- 
mediate stage of Biography. In the lives of kings, 
statesmen, generals, and other great men, we have the 
materials of history. 

The full bearings of History cannot be understood 
without much previous knowledge, and some experience 
of the world ; and where these requisites are found, 
there is little need for a teacher. The great historical 
works, ancient and modern, are the self-chosen private 
reading of our mature years. 

The earliest lessons of a general kind, in connection 
with History, are lessons in human nature, in the ways, 
actions, and motives of men. These may be very 
elementary and obvious, as in the displays of selfishness, 
of devoted ness, and of the various other forms of human 
passion. When such passions animate a nation, or a 



282 METHODS : — HISTORY. 

collective assembly, they are facts of history. It is 
desirable, however, to bring before the older pupils the 
exact nature of society, as an assemblage of human 
beings in a certain fixed territory, for mutual interest 
and security, and presided over by a head, or governing 
power. Out of this arrangement comes law or social 
obedience, which is a great part of morality, and the 
type of the whole. History presents different forms of 
government, and different kinds of laws, and in its nar- 
rative portion contains the changes more or less violent 
in the relations of the governing body to the governed. 
When such matters as these are exemplified, history 
becomes a political education, as well as a moral engine. 
Select Object Lessons in History would be such as 
these: namely, the Constitutions of some of the more 
primitive nations, beginning, for example, with the Hill 
tribes of India, and leading up by degrees to our own 
Constitution. As a select lesson the topic ' Revolution ' 
could be given, handled in the usual two forms, par- 
ticular and general, or comparative. Some one Revolu- 
tion, as the French, would supply a lesson in the particular 
or concrete ; and a comparative view of different revo- 
lutions would be given apart as the general exercise. 

History is taught in the two alternative and mutually 
supplementing methods — a comprehensive sketch of 
Universal History, and a full detail of select periods. 
The Universal History would embody a Chronology, 
•which is the chart of history, and with that the great 
leading events of the world. A somewhat fuller view 
might be given of Modern European history ; and a 
still fuller view of our own history. Outside of this 
would be set forth a minute sketch of certain epochs, 



KNOWLEDGE OF POLITICAL SOCIETY. 283 

say the turning epochs in our own history — the Norman 
Conquest, Magna Charta, the wars of England and Scot- 
land, the Reformation, the Commonwealth. The least 
satisfactory compilations are those that are neither wide 
enough to give a general grasp of the world's history, 
nor minute enough to exhibit the historical forces at 
work. 

Ancient History has been hitherto associated with 
classical studies, and thus introduced into a later stage 
of the pupils' course ; being scarcely at all mentioned, 
except by select episode, in primary instruction. 

The teaching of history almost appears to defy 
Method. Any and every method would seem to apply, 
if we may judge by the variety of views that are enter- 
tained. The mistake is that the precise situation of the 
teacher is too little taken into account. He brings 
forward history, in the first instance, not for its own 
sake, but to help him in other branches. Thus history 
shares the fate common to many compositions, including 
the Bible itself It is used simply for learning to read 
and spell. It is the vehicle for some of the first lessons 
in right and wrong, good and evil. It serves the use 
assigned to it by Goethe, to inspire enthusiasm, which 
might receive a wide interpretation, and imply the pas- 
sions generally. In all this, there is scarcely anything 
of the distinctive functions of historical composition. 
The rules of method in these exercises are to be sought 
in other connections. 

History proper starts with the idea of a nation or 
nations, and therefore supposes some knowledge of the 
structure of political society. This, I have remarked, 
must be the theme of distinctive lessons, wliich will be 



284 METHODS : — HISTORY. 

all the easier, according to the advancement made in 
Geography, whose finale, Political Geography, is the true 
opening of history. When we understand what a nation 
is, we are prepared to follow its movements, changes, 
progress, and these are what history has to record. 
The narrative of events, to be of any value, should pro- 
ceed upon the understood characteristics of the nation, 
and should throw back light upon these, like the mutual 
play of structure and function in Biology. 

It would take a much higher acquaintance with 
political science than teachers usually possess, to conduct 
historical teaching upon any such method of mutual 
dependence. The pupils can reach the heights only by 
very slow steps, and it is entirely at the teacher's dis- 
cretion, what explanations he should introduce at differ- 
ent stages, or at what stage he should take this view of 
history at all. Leaving the very earliest teaching use 
of history, there is the intermediate use — as animated 
chronology, or the succession of the great leading events 
of the world, in their order of date ; which is the setting 
of all superadded knowledge. The teacher can easily 
rise above the hard enumeration of dates, and the bare 
mention of dynasties, the rise and fall of nations, and 
other epochs, — to a more exciting narrative of the cir- 
cumstances attending the more momentous events. The 
four ancient monarchies, the fall of the Roman Empire, 
the rise of the modern nationalities, the Crusades, the 
capture of Constantinople, the Thirty Years' War, the 
Wars of the French Revolution, the advance of Euro- 
pean Colonization,— have to receive their fixed dates, so 
as to make a chronology, and to this may be added some 
very general statements of the agencies that operated 



HIGHEST FORM OF HISTORY. 28$ 

such vast changes. Historic record is exceedingly 
elastic ; it can be given justly on many scales : a very 
comprehensive view of the rise of the Greek power in 
the ancient world, and of its subversion by Rome, may 
assign the reasons or causes in an intelligible, interesting 
and correct, although greatly abridged, account. To be 
able offhand to vary the scale of the record is one of the 
arts of the teacher. He works upon a compilation, gene- 
rally too minute for his purpose, and he must know how 
to contract it ; on other occasions, he may throw in the 
intermediate particulars, so as to enlarge the scale. This 
is only repeating an operation needed in Geography, as 
well as in other things. 

The highest form of history is represented in the 
great works on the subject, ancient and modern. In 
these the structure of Political Institutions is more or 
less fully set forth, and the events treated on the deepest 
laws of political cause and effect. This kind of history 
is in alliance with the most advanced Sociology or Poli- 
tical Philosophy of the time ; and. as it is too extensive 
in its scope to be made a branch of a regular teaching, 
except by selection, the philosophy must count for more 
than the narrative. In fact, in the higher teaching of 
schools and colleges, history should be reduced to a 
science, and the narratives merely cited in exemplifi- 
cation of the principles. It is impossible to treat of all 
history ; and epitomes or compendiums, upon the plan 
supposed in the earlier stage, would give no satisfaction ; 
the only principle of selection is the exemplification of 
the theories of political cause and effect. The historical 
details, as given in the exhaustive histories of Greece 

and Rome, in the ancient world, and of the great nations 
]4 



286 METHODS:— HISTORY. 

that make up the modern world, are overtaken after- 
wards by private reading. To repeat these in Lec- 
tures would be a waste of time, and must be at least 
very fragmentary; and unless the portions actually com- 
prised are chosen by accident and caprice, the ruling 
consideration must be historical causation, given under 
some system not at all difficult to shape in the present 
state of political science. The questions even now asked 
in connection with history, at the higher Examinations, 
prove that there is no difficulty in conceiving a suitable 
culture for the most advanced stages of education in 
this department. 

Universal History having grown to interminable di- 
mensions, it passes the compass of any single mind, and 
would be a useless acquisition. Like many other subjects 
in the present state of knowledge, including the chief 
sciences — Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, Biology — it 
has to be taught upon some principle of selection. This 
is not difficult to state. What has already been pre- 
scribed as representing the early stage of history 
lessons, is supposed first of all. Next is the theory of 
Political Society, and a comparative view of the leading 
Institutions. Lastly, there should be some compact 
body of Principles embracing the historic forces, with 
their exemplifications in special portions of actual 
history. More than one period would be desirable; 
and the ancient and modern world should both be 
represented. 

The fact that history presents no difficulty to minds 
of ordinary education and experience, and is, moreover, 
an interesting form of literature, is a sufficient reason for 
not spending much time upon it in the curriculum of 



PERSPICUOUS COMMUNICATION. 287 

school or college. When there is any doubt, we may 
settle the matter by leaving it out. 

A very searching historical enquiry into modern 
events brings out such a variety of opinions in prac- 
tical politics and still more in religion, as to make an 
obstacle to the introduction of the subject into the higher 
schools and colleges. This difficulty is felt in Germany, 
where professors are more outspoken than in England ; 
it also occurs in connection with the Irish Roman Catho- 
lics in the Queen's Colleges. A history of the Reforma- 
tion could scarcely be thorough, if it offended neither 
Protestants nor Roman Catholics ; a history of the first 
centuries of the Christian era, if it dissatisfied nobody, 
would be worthless to everybody. 

SCIENCE. 

The Methods of teaching Science are as extensive and 
various as the field itself They involve, in the highest 
degree, all the devices for the perspicuous communication 
of knowledge, as well as the more special devices of im- 
parting generalized or abstract notions and truths. The 
teacher is usually supposed to have before him an ex- 
position already shaped. He may of course modify the 
pre-existing exposition, and be a book to himself; but a 
convenient line may be drawn between the art of writing 
an expository work of science, and the art of bringing 
home the truths in actual teaching. 

The methods of inculcating the abstract idea were 
incidentally sketched at an earlier stage. These methods 
are complete, as far as concerns the central fact of science 
— the generality or abstraction ; only they do not in- 
clude all that pertains to the teaching. Next to the 



288 METHODS : — ARITHMETIC. 

exposition of a single abstract notion or principle, is 
the setting forth of demonstrative reasoning in chains of 
abstractions; a process that has its own separate diffi- 
culties. The requirement here is not a new expository 
method, but the careful employment of the ordinary forms 
of perspicuous language; to which is to be added the 
making sure that the links of the chain are each made 
secure. 

Arithmetic. 

The method for Arithmetical teaching is perhaps the 
best understood of any of the methods concerned with 
elementary studies. To illustrate Number by examples 
in the concrete, and to show the reasons of the rules 
by means of these examples, are the substance of the 
modern method, as opposed to the older practice of 
prescribing the tables and the rules, to be committed to 
memory, and carried into operation as the pupils best 
might. 

Much is involved in the first attempts to work upon 
number. The distinction between one number and 
another is shown to the eye by concrete groups of 
various things ; the identity of number appearing under 
disparity of materials and of grouping : ideas are thus 
acquired of unity, of two, three, 8z;c., up to ten in a row. 
Difference or contrast is made use of, as well as agree- 
ment; five is placed by the side of four and of six. At 
the outset small tangible objects are used — balls, pebbles, 
coins, apples ; then larger objects, as chairs, and pictures 
oil a wall. Finally, dots, or short lines, or some other 
plain marks, are the representative examples to be 
deposited in the mind as the nearest approach to the 
abstract idea. 



B'UNDAMENTAL OPERATIONS. 289 

The conception of Number is not complete till it 
carry with it the ideas of more and less, of adding and 
taking away, and of the converting of one number into 
another by these means. More and less stands contrasted 
with the fundamental notion of equals, which also comes 
to the front in the first manipulation with numbers. 
Sameness in difference is exemplified in the notion of 
each number, obtained by comparing the concrete ex- 
amples; and equality first conceived by coincidence of 
lengths, is transferred to number, by numerical coinci- 
dence in differently arranged groups; as when nine is 
set forth in one row, and also in three rows. 

On the basis of the preliminary exercises Avith num- 
bers in the concrete, the decimal system is reached, and 
with it the methods of adding and subtracting ; all which 
can be made quite intelligible and rational, as the pre- 
cursor of the exercises to be worked. The sums of the 
simple numbers, having first been exemplified, have to 
be committed to memory; and this is the commencement 
of the business of computation, and of all the severe part 
of the subject. It being the essence of the abstracting 
operations to enable us to leap to conclusions, without 
going through all the intermediate steps, the memory has 
to receive with firmness and precision all that is included 
in the addition and multiplication tables ; and the test 
of aptitude for the subject is the readiness to come under 
this discipline. It is a kind of memory that in all pro- 
bability depends on a certain maturity or advancement of 
the brain ; so that no amount of concrete illustration will 
force it on before its time. On the old system, the pupil 
commenced arithmetic when able to imbibe the tables 
and to work sums without any preliminary explanations 



290 METHODS : — ARITHMETIC. 

of number ; the ability arising in due course by the 
growth of the brain, and not depending on any aid from 
the teacher. 

I am not aware of any special device for lightening 
this part of the process of arithmetical training. The 
general arts of teaching are of avail here as elsewhere — 
the apportioning of the lessons in suitable amount, the 
graduated exercises, the unbroken application, the pa- 
tience and encouragement of the teacher. It is plain, 
however, that the multiplication table is a grand effort 
of the special memory for sym.bols and their combi- 
nations, and the labour is not to be extenuated in any 
way. The associations must be formed so as to operate 
automatically, that is, -without thinking, enquiring, or 
reasoning ; and for this we must trust to the unaided 
adhesiveness due to mechanical iteration. It is not un- 
important to have gone so far into the rationale of the 
process as to be able to work out any one product de- 
ductively ; and it might be a certain relief in the work 
of committing the table, to select a few of the products 
for determination by manipulating the factors — four 
sixes equal two tens and four, seven twelves equal eight 
tens and four. Another collateral exercise would be to 
call attention to each column as a steady addition of one 
number — twice six, three times six, and so on ; which is 
the point where adding passes into multiplying. These 
explanations are useful in themselves, as contributing to 
the science of the subject ; and they are a slight aid to 
the memory ; we are not so apt to forget that four times 
six is twenty-four after having formed the twenty-four 
from the sixes. Still, I apprehend that the cementing of 
the requisite associations of the one hundred and forty- 



FRACTIONS AND THE RULE OF THREE. 29 1 

four products must be mainly an affair of symbolical 
memory, the result of immense iteration, and not to be 
entered on until a suitable age. 

While this complete and self-sufficing association is 
the groundwork of the process of multiplication, which 
enters into all the higher operations, there are various 
points in the actual exercises, where the intelligent con- 
ception of numbers comes in aid ; as in the placing of the 
multiplier below the multiplicand, and the arrangement 
of the lines of the successive products. For these mat- 
ters, a knowledge of the reasons is very serviceable. The 
same applies to Fractions ; in them the reasons assist the 
mind in observing the rules, which are not so easily held 
in the unmeaning shape as are the addition and multipli- 
cation tables. Still more does the knowledge of reasons 
apply to the Rule of Three, which can hardly be applied 
under any mode of stating it that does not assign the 
explanation. Hence, this is justly counted the pons 
asinonun of Arithmetic ; it is the place where mere rote 
acquirement is sure to break down. So long as the ques- 
tions are given in a regular form, the unmeaning rule may 
be enough ; but as against distorted arrangements, it is 
powerless. In the usual applications to computing Inter- 
est, the hackneyed rule suffices only for the easiest cases. 

It is thus apparent that, while many of the links of 
arithmetical operations are blind unmeaning symbolical 
associations, which are possible at a certain age, which 
may be called the dawning of the Age of Abstract 
Reason, because it is the epoch when the mind can be- 
take itself to symbolical and representative signs, and 
think and operate through their instrumentality, — yet 
there runs through the subject a necessity of perceiving 



292 METHODS:— ARITHMETIC. 

the grounds and connections of the various operations ; 
and unless this perception is arrived at, there will be in- 
cessant halting. Nevertheless, when the proper routine 
is once learnt for all the recurring cases, the only thing 
wanted is facility in the cardinal operations, the result 
of the symbolical memory. 

The full bearings of Arithmetic, as a science, cannot 
be seen until the pupil has made some way in the higher 
branches of Mathematics ; and they are never completely 
known, except to the few that attain the conception of 
the highest scientific or logical method. In the lower 
stage of school training, ease and accuracy in calcula- 
tion, extended to the ordinary compass of arithmetical 
problems, must be chiefly looked to. The persistent 
practice of years should bring about this result; while 
rapidity is attained by special drill in mental arithmetic. 

There is an important principle of economy in Edu- 
cation that applies to Arithmetic, but not to it alone; 
that is, the utilizing of the questions or exercises, by 
making them the medium of useful information. Instead 
of giving unmeaning numbers to add, subtract, multiply, 
and so on, we might, after the more preliminary instances, 
make every question contain some important numerical 
data relating to the facts of nature, or the conventional 
usages of life ; anticipating, as far as. may be, the future 
exigencies of the pupils in their station in life. Not 
that they should be asked to commit these data to 
memory, or be twitted for not having attended to them, 
but that in those moments when attention is not en- 
grossed with the difficulties of the purely arithmetical 
work, it may chance to fix upon the numbers given in 
the question, and thereby impress these on the memory. 



THE QUESTIONS UTILIZED. 293 

For example, the leading dates in chronology might 
be embodied in a variety of questions. A few sums and 
differences derived from the reigns of the English sove- 
reigns, would be a collateral aid in stamping these on 
the memory; and might be the more effectual that it is 
not given as the essential stress of the exercise. Such 
simple examples in subtraction as how many years 
have elapsed since the Conquest, since the death of 
Charles I., since the Union of England and Scotland, 
the dates being either given in the question, or assumed 
to have been otherwise given- -would help to impress 
these on the memory. 

In a similar way, important Geographical numbers 
could be stamped on the recollection by being manipu- 
lated in a variety of questions. The dimensions, area, 
and population of the three kingdoms, the proportion 
of cultivated and uncultivated land, the population of 
the largest cities, the productions, trade, taxation of the 
country, —all which become the subject of reference and 
the groundwork of reasonings in politics, — could receive 
an increased hold on the mind by their iteration in the 
Arithmetical sums. 

The common weights and measures should be familiar 
to everyone ; and these might be so wrapped up in exer- 
cises, that the pupil could not avoid taking note of them. 
The mere act of writing them a number of times on the 
slate, with a view to solving questions, would render it 
almost impossible to escape being struck by them. A 
most valuable datum in the ordinary contingencies of life 
is the relation of weight to bulk, given through the 
medium of water. A cubic foot of water weighs 62^ lbs, 
and a gallon weighs 10 lbs. ; these are data that no mind 



294 METHODS :— ARITHMETIC. 

should be without. If a few leading specific gravities — 
cork, wood (of some of the commoner kinds), building 
stone, iron, lead, gold — were added, there would be the 
means of readily arriving at many interesting facts. 

Frequent reference might be made to foreign moneys 
and scales of weights and measures, as of almost universal 
interest; and especially to the decimal system of foreign 
countries. All this could be done in questions. 

Next, I might cite the scales of the thermometer. 
For want of knowing these, the statements of tempera- 
ture are, in the majority of cases, unintelligible : the 
Centigrade and Reaumur being now more in use than 
Fahrenheit. 

The comparative strength in alcohol of spirits, malt 
liquors, and wines might be incidentally remembered by 
being involved in exercises of computation. 

We might range over the various sciences for interest- 
ing data. Thus, in Astronomy, such leading numbers as 
the sun's distance, and magnitude, the moon's distance, 
the distances of the greater planets from the sun, the 
periods of revolution, and rotation - could be chosen, as 
not unlikely to make an impression through their inci- 
dental use in questions. Such is the so-called perversity 
of human nature, that the mind would often take a de- 
light in dwelling upon these casual figures, because to 
remember them was not a part of the task. And further, 
by a general law of the mind, if a question for some 
reason or other has engaged the attention in an unusual 
degree, the memory will receive the indelible stamp of 
all its parts and accompaniments. 



GEOMETRY THE PORTAL. 29S 



The Higher Mathematics. 

The Methods in Geometry, Algebra, and the Higher 
Mathematics, are the methods for impressing abstract and 
symboHcal notions and principles. The understanding 
must now accompany the work throughout ; the stage of 
routine manipulation, worked up to automatic dexterity, 
is left behind. To a certain extent, the mechanical pro- 
cesses may enter into Algebra; the pupil may receive 
certain instructions, and, without understanding the 
reasons, perform the simpler operations of adding sub- 
tracting, multiplying, as in Arithmetic, but in the 
resolution of equations, the principles must be under- 
stood. 

To advance at a moderate, steady, pace, to see each 
step well familiarized, before entering on the next, — are 
the rules of all difficult acquisition, from the beginning 
of time till the end. The earlier parts of such subjects 
as Geometry and Algebra need the longest iteration : 
the progress should be at an accelerating rate. The 
higher Mathematics should not be commenced with im- 
mature or incapable minds. 

The fundamental axioms of Mathematics, includ- 
ing Arithmetic, are brought forward exclusively in con- 
nection with Geometry, which has always been the 
purest type of a demonstrative science. This makes 
Geometry now, what it was to Plato, the portal of the 
sciences. The scheme of formal demonstration^ pro- 
ceeding from Definitions, Axioms, and Postulates, is first 
unfolded in P^uclid ; hardly anything corresponding is 
found in the usual modes of commencing Arithmetic 



296 METHODS : — HIGHER MATHEMATICS. 

and Algebra. No one knows Geometry, in the proper 
scientific way, without comprehending the precise drift 
of all these preparatory elements, as well as the nature 
of consecutive demonstration. But there is a concrete 
handling of Geometry precisely analogous to the Pesta- 
lozzi system for Arithmetic, and having the same effect. 
It familiarizes the mind with the figures or diagrams, 
enables sides and angles to be understood, and gives a 
mode of experimental proof of some of the leading 
theorems that is really conclusive in itself, although not 
the sort of proof that belongs to the science. That the 
sum of the three angles of a triangle is two right angles, 
can be proved in the concrete ; just as we can prove that 
six times four is twenty-four. It would be a mistake, 
however, to suppose that the experimental proof of pro- 
positions by cutting and folding cards is either Geometry, 
or a preparation for entering on the march of Euclid, or 
of any other system of Geometry conceived in the scien- 
tific form. When we come to the real business of Geome- 
try, we have quite another sort of work before us ; we 
are refused appeals to the senses or the concrete, and 
must establish each property as a consequence of some 
previous property, starting first of all from the defini- 
tions and axioms, which are to be conceived as purely 
representative abstractions. The serious work of the 
teacher lies in following this plan, and in using his con- 
crete instances only in aid of the abstractions as they 
are given in the definitions. 'A line is length with- 
out breadth.' Examples of lines in the concrete may 
be given with this definition, but what the pupil must 
learn to understand (with no small difficulty) is, that 
every concrete line is false to the definition ; and that 



ALGEBRA FOLLOWS GEOMETRY. 297 

the mental operation to be performed is thinking of 
the length, and neglecting, or leaving out of account, 
the breadth. Next the straight line is taken up in a 
fashion that leaves the concrete far behind. No doubt, 
a little concrete illustration is useful as a help to the 
definition — 'lines cannot coincide in two points with- 
out coinciding altogether ; ' but the notion must thence- 
forth be grasped as an abstraction, and conjoined 
with other abstractions in chains of demonstration. So 
with the other definitions. So also with the axioms : 
a few concrete examples are provided at the outset, 
and their support is thenceforth withdrawn ; the mind 
must hold by the abstract conceptions, as embodied 
partly in diagrams, and partly in general language ; and 
must be ready to draw inferences from clusters of pro- 
positions given in this naked form. The concrete pre- 
paration soon exhausts its efificacy ; and the pupil has 
to depend upon the power to retain and to accumulate 
abstractions for the purposes of the work in hand. 

The aid to be afforded by the teacher in mastering the 
demonstrations of Geometry, consists chiefly in making 
the essential steps prominent among the long-winded 
repetitions of subordinate matters. The propositions as 
given in Euclid could be simplified by giving a larger 
type to the main statements ; and the living voice of the 
teacher can still further contribute to put the stress of 
attention where it is most required, and withdraw it from 
the tedious repetitions. 

Algebra is better learnt after Geometry, inasmuch 
as it works in part by demonstration or deduction from 
principles, for which by far the best commencement is 
Geometry. It has its own speciality, which consists in 



298 METHODS :— HIGHER MATHEMATICS. 

wrapping up the problems more completely in symbols, 
so that the inferences have to depend upon the validity 
of the symbolic representations and processes. The 
symbolic processes should be justified by explanations 
and demonstrations at the outset ; and the pupil should 
fully comprehejid these. In point of fact, most pupils 
take all that upon trust ; the results being always right, 
and being easily verified, they go on the principle that 
' all's well that ends well' That ' minus multiplied by 
minus is plus,' is proved by never leading us to a wrong 
conclusion. 

It is the province of the accomplished mathemati- 
cian to provide the best possible simplifications of the 
difficulties that cloud the higher mathematics. How 
to embody the actual problems in mathematical lan- 
guage, — for example, the problems of motion in the 
scheme of differential co-efficients, — is a standing em- 
barrassment, not to be met by any of the arts of ordi- 
nary tuition. 

Mathematics is, in respect of teaching method, a 
sufficient type of the abstract and deductive sciences. 
All the subsequent sciences, in the fundamental group 
— Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Psychology — have their 
severe and abstract side, although with a growing de- 
pendence on the concrete. He that could teach Mathe- 
matics well, would not be a bad teacher, in any one of the 
rest, unless by the accident of total inaptitude for expe- 
rimental illustration ; while the mere experimentalist is 
most likely to fall into the error of missing the essential 
condition of science as reasoned truth ; not to speak of 
the danger of making the instruction an affair of sensa- 
tion, glitter, or pyrotechnic show. 



THE EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCES. 299 

An Inductive Science, as Experimental Physics, 
Chemistry, and Biology, is still a Science ; there are general 
principles and particular instances. What is absent is 
the long consecutive chain of demonstration, requiring a 
sustained mastery of a whole series of propositions ; but 
this labour is replaced by others. The laws of the In- 
ductive sciences are liable to come under many qualifi- 
cations and conditions ; instead of a single well-marked 
predicate, there is a complex and conditional predication ; 
and if we have not such a long course to run, we have 
another kind of mental tone, in the shape of manifold 
and distracting statements. 

It is of great importance to reiterate, in connection 
with the general or fundamental sciences, that although 
many of their truths can be brought forward usefully, as 
object lessons, they will certainly not be retained in the 
mind with any degree of fixity or precision, unless they 
are finally grasped in their proper places in the mother 
sciences. It is well to have interesting facts of heat, 
or of atmospheric pressure, exhibited in desultory 
fashion, at an age when Physical science could not be 
taught in its proper character ; but until the various 
facts are seen in their scientific connections, they will 
remain hazy and precarious. Even a master of exposi- 
tion, like Huxley, could not effectively impress, although 
he could clothe with interest, the truths of Biology, or 
Geology, in the form of an isolated address. 

Natural History. 

The Natural History Sciences are typified, and chiefly 
made up, by Mineralogy, Botany, and Zoology. The 
Methods of teaching these are not difficult to assign, 



300 METHODS :— NATURAL HISTORY. 

although there are some things that serve to complicate 
them. It is understood that they repeat facts, notions 
already obtained in the General Sciences, and that they 
are occupied with the arrangement, classification, and 
description of vast numbers of individual objects. 

Any of these sciences, and particularly the two last, 
would swamp and overwhelm the strongest memory, 
and the details would be unprofitable when lodged there. 
The teacher has to hit upon a principle of selection that 
will guide him in making the most of a limited amount 
of time. 

Take Mineralogy. There is here, as in the others, a 
general and a special department. The general depart- 
ment states fully, and in order, all the successive pro- 
perties of minerals at large — Mathematical (crystalline 
forms). Physical, Chemical — and adduces individual mi- 
nerals as exemplifying the several properties, in all their 
various modes and degrees. This part the student is 
expected thoroughly to master; and after being familiar 
with the related mother sciences, can easily do so. It 
is, however, the smallest portion, as regards extent. The 
special department contains the classification of all 
existing minerals, and the enumeration and full descrip- 
tion of each species in its place. This cannot be com- 
prehended by any single mind. The lecturer is able to 
overtake the scheme of classification, with its divisions 
and subdivisions, and can do nothing further but choose 
exemplary species, for full description, A certain num- 
ber of species there are that embrace substances of such 
leading importance in the economy of nature that every 
instructed person might desire to know all about them ; 
such are silica, alumina, lime, sulphur, the leading metals, 



MINER ALOGY.— BOTANY. — ZOOLOGY. 30 1 

and their more notable combinations. Others, as the 
gems, have the interest of beauty and rarity. So, 
everyone would wish to know something of the bodies 
that come to us from wandering over the realms of 
space. But of two or three thousand species, no teaching 
in an ordinary course could embrace more than forty or 
fifty, and of these the memory might hold in minute 
fulness, fifteen or twenty, and retain a vaguer recollection 
of the rest. The knowledge set forth, in the first or 
general department, might be retained with considerable 
firmness, and would include a great amount of specific 
information, in a very favourable form, namely, the 
enumeration of individuals as exemplifying general 
properties — cubical crystallization, highest degrees of 
hardness, magnetism, &c. 

The arrangement is analogous for Botany. General 
Botany precedes, next coms the Principles of Classifica- 
tion, and lastly the detail of Species, which is the intermi- 
nable portion of the subject. There is a much shorter 
course, that is, recreative Botany, which teaches enough 
for the determination of wild plants, as encountered in 
their native localities. For this form of the science are 
compiled the Floras of countries and districts, which 
somewhat disguise the proper science of Botany; being 
still more remotely connected with Plant Biology, which 
deals with the processes of plant life, including the wide 
subject of fertilization. 

Zoology is well understood to be a vaster subject 
than either of the others, whether as to the number of its 
objects, or as to their complication. Moreover, it is tra- 
versed by the special Anatomy of the Human Subject, 
by which the highest of Zoological species is taken out 



302 METHODS: —NATURAL HISTORY. 

of the classification and treated in isolation and inde- 
pendence, and with a degree of fulness that is accorded 
to no other species. It is also to the human subject 
that the laws of the animal mechanism and vital pro- 
cesses are attached, so that the mother science of Biology 
in its Animal department is almost entirely concerned 
with Man ; other animals being used as subsidiary elu- 
cidations. There is thus a play of cross purposes be- 
tween Human Anatomy and Physiology, Comparative 
Anatomy and Physiology, and Zoology proper; and as 
they make three vast subjects, no one can overtake more 
than one, with a small portion of the others ; and the 
selection of what is most valuable for a general education 
is yet a desideratum. Biology as Human Physiology, 
enlarged by comparative references to the animals gene- 
rally, should enter into a complete scientific training. 
Now the human subject, if anatomically studied, which 
is hardly possible except in a medical school, is so far 
a key to the Vertebrates generally, and the Mammalia 
especially, that it contains all their parts and something 
more ; yet there remain very considerable differences ; 
and Zoology is still an arduous and extensive study, 
which must be reduced by selection, until even whole 
Classes, not to speak of Natural Orders, Genera and 
Species, are left unrepresented in a tolerably extended 
course. Still, the groundwork may be laid for following 
out the subject, which is all that teaching can do, or 
should attempt, for many of the most fruitful regions of 
knowledge. 

Geology has a sphere of its own, although involving 
references to all the three foregoing sciences. It is a 
science of detail but not to the extent of the others; 



UTILITY OF HANDLING THE OBJECTS. 303 

and the physical processes are more thought of than in 
them ; in which respect, it nearly resembles Meteorology, 
an applied department of Physics. Geology could be 
understood and followed on a basis of Natural Philo- 
sophy or Physics, with mere 'object lessons' on minerals, 
plants and animals. 



PRACTICAL TEACHING. 

With reference to the Experimental Sciences of 
Physics, Chemistry, Biology, and the Natural History 
group, it is now frequently urged that the teaching 
should be practical : meaning, not merely, that the 
teacher should present to the pupils actual experiments 
and specimens, but that the pupils should manipulate 
with their own hands. Professor Huxley seems to hold 
that Zoology cannot be learnt with any degree of 
sufficiency unless the student practise dissection. 

In support of this position, there are strong reasons. 
In the first place, the impression made on the mind by 
the actual objects, as seen, handled, and operated upon, 
is far beyond the efficacy of words, or description. And 
not only is it greater, but it is more faithful to the fact. 
While diagrams have a special value in bringing out 
links of connection that are disguised in the actual ob- 
jects, they can never show the things exactly as they 
appear to our senses ; and this full and precise concep- 
tion of actuality is the most desirable form of knowledge ; 
it is truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 
Moreover, it enables the student to exercise a free and 
independent judgment upon the dicta of the teacher. 

Whether the power and habit of experimental mani- 



304 METHODS : — PRACTICAL TEACHING. 

pulation should be acquired for its own sake, depends 
on what further use is likely to be made of it. In 
the Zoology courses in the ' School of Mines,' there 
are schoolmasters' classes, where dissecting is practised, 
and is useful ; but we cannot contend that very valuable 
instruction may not be imparted by merely showing dis- 
sected and prepared specimens, although the pupil has 
no hand in the work. So, in Experimental Physics, a 
good knowledge may be obtained from a course that 
shows all needful experiments, without the actual par- 
ticipation by the pupils themselves. To make an ex- 
periment succeed, many delicate precautions and fine 
manipulations may be wanted ; some of these precau- 
tions implicate matters of knowledge that are not 
perhaps conveyed to the minds of the learners, while 
they are very strongly impressed on the mind of the 
experimenter. As regards the mere manual skill, that 
cannot be called a part of scientific information or disci- 
pline, while to acquire it needs time and attention. The 
Laboratory teaching in Physics (a recent innovation), like 
Laboratory teaching in Chemistry, is a good introduc- 
tion to various scientific avocations, as Engineering, 
Machinery, and Manufactures ; it cannot be regarded as 
essential to the general course of scientific study, and 
would be too dearly bought at the cost of marring some 
other department of science. More especially, if train- 
ing in the higher intellectual operations of the mind is 
the object of view, would it be a disproportion to give 
up a large share of time to practical working. 

"What may be said in favour of practical teaching for 
a general training is, that the arts, devices, precautions 
connected with exact observation, would be brought 



USES OF TEXT-BOOKS. 305 

home by a course of study in some one of the experi- 
mental or observational sciences. Practical experience 
in a single subject would be enough ; and the interest of 
the work would go far to repay the devotion. It is plain 
that in none of the experimental subjects could anyone 
be an adept, an expert, or an authority, apart from the 
practical study ; but to carry the information and the 
training forward into other departments, a knowledge 
obtained without this help may suffice. We need not 
be workers in Physiology to apply its results to the 
physical accompaniments of the Mind. 

ORAL TEACHING AND TEXT-BOOKS. 

In primary instruction, and, to a certain extent, in 
the secondary higher instruction, text-books are made 
use of as the means of communicating knowledge. They 
are very variously employed. Sometimes the teacher 
himself orally delivers the whole substance of the les- 
son, referring to the text-book as a further aid. Some- 
times he selects portions for oral exposition, thus awak- 
ening the pupils' minds to what is to be done, and leaving 
the rest to their own exertions. Lastly, he may do nothing 
at all, but exact, in the form of lessons, an account of 
what is in the book, giving corrections and explanations 
according as these are found to be necessary. The first 
method very nearly approaches to independent lecturing, 
the text-book being an adjunct and support. A combi- 
nation of the lecture and the text-book, when they are 
made to harmonize well, is an effective mode of carrying 
on instruction both in the lower and in the higher grades. 
The textrbook does not supersede the lectures, but only 



306 METHODS : -ORAL TEACHING. 

supplies gaps. If there is no text-book, provision has 
to be made for taking full notes, and the lecturer must 
advance slowly, and be careful to dictate or post up 
the heads and leading principles. 

Lecturing, that is, oral teaching, with or without text- 
book, has the very great advantage of the living voice, 
aided by the sympathy of numbers ; and is indispensable 
in school-teaching. Young pupils have much difficulty 
in guessing out for themselves the meaning of a com- 
pactly-worded handbook ; to set them to work at this, as 
an evening task, is a kind of fatigue drill. The gene- 
rality are found at fault when the class is examined ; a 
few may succeed, and the others get the benefit of the 
rehearsal, with the comments of the master, and in that 
way learn all that they do learn. If a lesson, after being 
heard in this way, were to be again prescribed, the get- 
ting up might be extended to the whole class. 

A task may be of a kind to dispense with prelimi- 
nary explanation, as in learning a string of words, or a 
verbatim statement. Even then, it is well that the teacher 
should first recite it to the pupils ; his doing so once will 
go farther to fix it in the memory than their going over 
it by themselves six times. There is no harm, but good, 
in exacting a certain amount of independent prepara- 
tion, especially with older pupils, but the teacher's first 
recitation, and the final iteration during the lessons, are 
the principal instrumentality whereby the lesson is fixed 
in the memory; the learner's own studies are the smallest 
contribution to the effect. 

When there are difficulties to be encountered, the pre- 
vious explanations of the master are indispensable. One 
species of difficulty deserves mention, as serious in itself, 



PRESCRIBING TASKS. 307 

and of common occurrence. A passage in the text- 
book may be prescribed, not to be got by heart, but to 
be understood, and repeated in substance. In historical 
narration, in a geographical picture, in a natural history 
description, and in scientific explanation, this position is 
created ; and it is a severe ordeal alike to the text-book, 
to the pupil, and to the master. To divine what are 
essential or leading points in a subject, and what are the 
accessory or subordinate details, requires a very mature 
judgment ; while, if they are separated by typography, 
in the text-book, the lowest degree of judgment is dis- 
pensed with, unless the exercise be to show the bearing 
of the one on the other. But for a pupil to discover 
what shall appear the leading points to the master, is to 
be something more than a pupil. It is in this situation, 
that the teacher should indicate what the points are, and 
should awaken the minds of pupils to the difference 
between these and the subordinate details. 

The easiest case is when there is a principle or rule, 
with a host of examples to choose from ; all that is ne- 
cessary is to prescribe the rule v.ith a choice of examples. 
The exercise is not one of memory but of comprehension. 

It is bad policy to prescribe lessons of excessive 
length, expecting only a part to be performed. If, for 
the sake of the better pupils, the lesson should exceed 
what the average can perform, the minimum should be a 
defined portion, to be exacted of everyone. The impos- 
sibility of bringing every pupil in a class to book, on 
every occasion, is in itself a standing temptation to run 
the blockade ; but when the quantity prescribed is beyond 
what can be reasonably required, the do-nothing habit 
receives positive encouragement. 



308 METHODS : — EXAMINATIONS. 



EXAMINATIONS GENERALLY. 

Examinations are a part of the means of making 
pupils put in practice what is taught them. The first step 
is to show or tell them something, the next is to make 
them do it themselves. As regards information imparted, 
the exercise consists in making them rehearse it, to show 
that it has taken hold of the memory. If it be a matter 
of reasoning, they must do something to show that they 
comprehend the reasons ; for which case, a test must be 
devised to distinguish between repeating verbatim the 
words of a reason, and understanding its bearing. To 
this every good teacher or examiner is competent ; the 
means are not far to seek. Of all the evasions coming 
under the designation 'cram,' the substitution of memory 
for understanding is the easiest to unmask. 

The most singular abuse of the process of examina- 
tion is seen in the time-honoured composition called 
the Catechism. Although most identified with religious 
teaching, the catechetical form has extended into all 
sorts of subjects. The point of it is to give the teacher 
the words of the questions to be put to the pupils, while 
they are to repeat the words of the answer, and so fulfil 
their part, as in a liturgy. It is true that good teachers 
nowadays superadd a cross-examination, but this is to 
innovate on the very idea of the catechism, and shows 
that the time has come for superseding it. It has been 
for ages the vehicle of a purely mechanical teaching. 

There is a reason for occasionally appending a series 
of questions to passages intended for conveying informa- 
tion, namely, to call attention to leading points, and to 
guide the pupils in preparing their task, as well as to 



PURPOSES OF EXAMINATIONS. 309 

assist the master. Such questions do not lend them- 
selves to mechanical teaching, but may do very much 
the reverse. No doubt each master should be able to 
put them for himself, but the giving of them beforehand 
is an advantage, by setting something for the pupils 
to do. 

The conducting of Examinations was originally 
viewed as a part of the teaching; and the point con- 
sidered was how much and what kind of examination 
should go along with viva voce lecturing ; and under 
what circumstances it was justifiable to prelect without 
examining at all, as in the German Universities and 
elsewhere. The Examinations at the close of the course 
or curriculum, were merely questions analogous to those 
put during the teaching, to show whether the pupils 
retained in their memory to the last what they seemed 
to imbibe from day to day. Upon such examinations 
certificates and prizes were awarded and degrees con- 
ferred. 

The present system of bestowing important State 
offices by Competitive Examination has given a new im- 
portance to the methods of conducting them ; and the 
whole subject is undergoing fresh and rigorous scrutiny. 
But if we are to go to the root of this matter, we need 
to consider three things in succession. I. What are the 
subjects that constitute the best groundwork of intel- 
lectual power ? II. How are these subjects to be taught .-* 
III. How are they to be tested in Examinations } The 
first of these topics is very far from being yet settled ; 
and I have devoted a considerable space to elucidate it 
according to my best judgment. The second topic is the 
question — How to teach ^ which still more largely occu- 
15 



3IO METHODS: — EXAMINATIONS. 

pies the present work. The third topic I refrain from 
entering upon. A very thorough discussion has been 
recently given to it, in a work ' On the Action of Ex- 
aminations considered as a means of Selection,' by 
Mr. Henry Latham, of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

The Methods for acquiring Languages contain certain 
peculiarities that render desirable a separate discussion. 
The questions respecting the education in the mother 
tongue are numerous and highly involved. As regards 
Foreign Languages, there remain to be adjusted, not 
merely the modes of acquisition, but the disputes as to 
I'aliie. 

There is an easily-conceivable state of things, that 
would dispense entirely with school instruction in the 
mother tongue. If the child were surrounded only by 
those that spoke correctly and well ; if it had ample 
opportunities of coming into contact with all the highest 
resources of the language, and of being imbued with the 
most tasteful usages ; — then the education in the mother 
tongue would be perfect through unavoidable imitation; 
there would be no other teaching than there is of the 
provincialisms of dialect and brogue. Something ap- 
proaching to this occurs in the better classes of society 
with ourselves ; and it is the whole case among nations 
that have but one set of expressions for all subjects, and 
for all persons. 

It is in so far as our actual position is different, that 
we need express teaching in the native tongue. Yet 



312 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

allowance has always to be made for the unavoidable 
and incidental instruction. It is an error to repeat at 
school what is learnt at home ; and a still commoner 
mistake to occupy school time with what is sure to be 
learnt in the great school of the world. Every hour 
spent in society is fraught with lessons in language. 
All knowledge acquired by the help of others comes to 
us in its language garb. A wide course of attainments 
in the various departments of knowledge is inseparable 
from a culture in the means of expression. 

The primary school has to fight against the low 
standard of the home, in language as in other things. 
The other schools maintain the same contest ; and the 
further contest with what is bad even in the speech of 
the educated ; including the mixture of tares and wheat 
in the field of general literature. 

The initial and pervading difficulty in teaching lan- 
guage in general, and the mother tongue in particular, is 
due to the doubleness of the acquisition — the union of 
language and thought. Language is nothing w^ithout 
thoughts to "express; and the attention is divided be- 
tween the two factors, instead of being concentrated 
upon one to the neglect of the other. Moreover, the 
kind of thought to be expressed must needs affect the 
manner of expressing it, and must, therefore, be taken 
into the account. There are, however, many of the 
arrangements of language that are the same for every 
variety of subject: such are the proprieties of Grammar, 
and a certain number of the conditions of Rhetoric; 
these constitute the more purely language studies. 

It has to be borne in mind that to teach language 
is not to teach knowledge, in the sense that we usually 



LANGUAGE APART FROM KNOWLEDGE. 313 

understand knowledge : as history, geography, science, 
the arts. Neither is it to impart lofty or poetic sentiment 
or moral elevation. In those matters, language is the 
vehicle or instrument ; but while we are tcsing it for such 
purposes, we are not expressly teaching it. True, to 
employ language for any purpose is an indirect and un- 
intentional way of giving instruction in language ; and a 
large part of our language education is gained in this 
form ; but such an effect is to be kept distinct from lan- 
guage exercises properly so called. 

The situation of carrying on a double subject is of 
frequent occurrence in our intellectual culture ; many 
branches of knowledge have a twofold aspect ; and it is 
easy to go wrong in dealing with this situation. The 
fact never to be forgotten is that the human mind can 
attend to only one thing at a time, although it may shift 
the attention very rapidly, and thus overtake two or 
more things by turns. In matters of education, however, 
where different subjects have to be mastered, or where 
numerous details have to be impressed on the memory, 
concentration on one exercise for a certain time is indis- 
pensable ; and, in those subjects that proceed on a double 
line, the attention should be sustained in one of the two 
directions, instead of flitting between both. 

For the greater part of language instruction, this 
principle of distinct attention can be fully carried out. 
Yet there are a few situations where the language and the 
thought are incorporated in such a way that they cannot 
even be separately considered. In Wit and Epigram, and 
in Figurative illustration, the ideas and the words equally 
constitute the vehicle for the thought to be ultimately 
conveyed. On the other hand, a knowledge of things 



314 LANGUAGE TEACHING GENERALLY. 

often assumes the guise of knowledge of language. What 
is an ' epidemic ' ? seems a verbal question, but in reality 
it is a demand for knowledge as to a natural fact or 
phenomenon. 



CONDITIONS OF LANGUAGE ACQUISITION GENERALLY. 

Language, as an acquisition, is seen in greatest purity 
in learning foreign languages. It is in these that we 
exemplify the process of adding word to word by verbal 
adhesiveness. The mother tongue involves largely the 
operation of associating names with things or thoughts. 
The laws of acquirement are not the same for the two cases. 

In every form, language is a very serious draft upon 
the plastic power of the mind ; and needs to be favoured 
by all those general conditions of retentiveness formerly 
set forth. The detailed associations that have to be 
constituted are exceedingly vast in amount; the mere 
number of vocables in any cultivated language counts 
by thousands, while many of them have plural meanings. 
To these must be superadded the special meanings of 
phrases, ideas, or combinations involving distinct acts of 
memory. 

In the process of uniting word to word there is 
exemplified the purely verbal adhesiveness of the mind, 
embodied principally in the ear, for spoken language, 
and in the eye for written language ; the voice being an 
adjunct to the ear, and the hand to the eye. This is the 
least favourable mode of learning language. To connect 
an English word with the corresponding word in French, 
in Latin, in Greek, does not bring into play the most 
powerful of the associating forces ; it does not fall into 



OBJECTS AND NAMES. 315 

the most adhesive lines, and it is not supported by the 
higher degrees of interest. 

It is in associating names at once ivith their objects 
or meanings, that the acquisition of language proceeds 
most rapidly. This is our situation in learning the 
mother tongue. We are in view of some object — a fire, 
a ball, a cat — which lays hold of our attention for the 
time; the name falling on the ear, is fused in the same act 
of attention and becomes speedily associated with the 
object. The more sensational a thing is, the sooner is 
the name incorporated : a flash of light, a sudden noise, 
a rapid motion, a fracture — if duly named, at the moment 
of occurrence, scarcely needs a second repetition. 

In this operation of combining names with our actual 
experiences, we are powerfully aided by the emotional 
response, which follows on every impression of any con- 
siderable force. We feel prompted to some vocal excla- 
mation, whenever we are moved, or excited, or made to 
attend to anything ; and, if we are made to hear the 
verbal designation, we fall into that, as the mode of 
venting the emotional impulse. The child soon shows 
this tendency to call out the name of anything that 
arrests its attention — fire, Puss, Tommy ; and the com- 
mand of language is in this way greatly promoted 

When learning a foreign language in the country 
where it is spoken, we are made aware of the difference 
between adding word to word, and connecting each name 
at once with the realities. In a French town, we see the 
word ' rue ' put up at every street corner ; in the shop 
windows we see the articles laid out with their several 
names attached. Riding on a rough road, after some 
great jolt, we hear a fellow-passenger exclaim, ' secousse,' 



3l6 LANGUAGE TEACHING GENERALLY. 

and one utterance is enough to attach the name to the 
situation for ever; whereas, several repetitions of 'se- 
cousse ' and * shock ' would be requisite to estabhsh a 
durable bond between the two words. 

In strict propriety, the same effect ought to arise 
through the circumstance, that the words in our own 
language should, when mentioned, carry our thoughts 
to their meaning ; the word ' secousse ' when explained 
by the English ' shock,' ought thereby to become con- 
nected with what ' shock ' expresses, and an association 
be thus formed between the French word and the actual 
situation. It is obvious, however, that the result is apt 
to be but feebly and slowly attained through this means. 
The process is rendered more effectual by dwelling for a 
little on the meaning, or giving explanations that serve 
to bring the actuality strongly before the mind, thus: 
'secousse' — *a shock, or jolt, as when riding on a rough 
road,' &c. Such an explanation given orally by the 
teacher, is likely to be sufficient to fix the word ; it is 
necessarily less effective when read by the pupil from 
the dictionary. 

This single example is enough to show how the 
power of apprehending meanings is essential to rapid 
progress in language ; that is to say, the knowledge of 
things should always keep ahead of the knowledge of 
terms. To force on prematurely the knowledge of un- 
familiar subjects, in order that a very young pupil may 
learn a hard language, as Latin, is working at the wrong 
end. If we are to read any author as a lingual exercise, 
it is desirable that we should previously understand his 
subject as a knowledge exercise; we are then in the 
proper position for acquiring the vocables and forms of 



KNOWLEDGE OF THE SUBJECT MATTER. 317 

language employed by him for expressing that know- 
ledge. To learn the Greek phraseology for Geometry, we 
should first understand Geometry, by studying it through 
our own language, and should then read Euclid in the 
original. It is not too much to say that the best geo- 
meter would make the most rapid progress in the Greek ; 
even the superior verbal memory of the young, or of 
those unusually gifted with verbal adhesiveness, would 
not make up for an imperfect hold of the subject matter; 
a good mathematician of fifty would probably finish 
the task sooner than a half-taught youth of fifteen, with 
the memory for words almost at the very best. 

Here wc see one of the weak points of the early 
study of foreign languages, and especially of dead lan- 
guages. The strong point is the freshness and force of 
the memory, coupled with the inaptitude of the reason 
for the higher kinds of knowledge. But unless the lan- 
guage is acquired with reference to the things actually 
understood by the pupil, it will not take hold even of the 
best memory. The difficulty is not usually perceived, 
in consequence of the universality of the easy-narrative 
form of composition — the omnipresent resource in the 
early stages of instruction. As it is very desirable to 
teach early the pronunciation of a foreign language, and 
as this needs some degree of acquaintance with the lan- 
guage itself, it may be taught in the nursery as far as 
the knowledge of a child goes, but no farther. 

The disadvantage of combining language teaching 
with the teaching of things is, as we shall see, inevitable 
(although it may be mitigated) in the mother tongue, 
but need not be repeated, as it often is, in foreign lan- 
guages. In these, the subject-knowledge might always 



3l8 LANGUAGE TEACHING GENERALLY. 

be well ahead of the language study. The seeming ob- 
jections to such a course may be met by a preponderance 
of counter considerations. 

Postponing for a little the full application of these 
generalities to the mother tongue, I must advert to the 
purest case of verbal acquisition — the adding of word to 
word, without reference to meaning. Although the staple 
of our language power should consist in associating 
words with things, situations, or meanings, there is still 
a considerable amount of the other exercise implicated 
in our learning of language, and in our knowledge as 
embodied in language. Take, for example, the details 
of Grammar — the inflections of inflected words, and the 
lists that accompany grammar rules and definitions. 
Likewise, the sentence forms that constitute our earliest 
utterances, and the more elaborate forms that we use 
with mechanical readiness in our later stages, are almost 
purely verbal associations. So are the passages com- 
mitted to memory, at a time when meaning counts for 
very little with us ; and all the sayings that we remember 
for their verbal point. Knowledge reduced to language 
is remembered by us partly through the coherence of the 
subject matter, and partly through the coherence of the 
words employed. Moreover, the synonyms of language 
are in great part grouped by our verbal memory ; and 
this extends beyond vocables to synonymous construc- 
tions and varied expressions for the same thing. Of 
course, all that part of the retention of foreign languages 
that is dependent on associating the mother name with 
its foreign equivalent comes under the same head. The 
extreme case is the acquirement of languages by the 
philologist for purely philological comparisons. 



AIDS TO ACQUISITION. 319 

These purely verbal associations, required in such 
immense numbers, must be regarded as a disagreeable 
necessity; it is only by accident, that they are interesting 
in themselves. Who can feel any charm in committing 
to memory the list of irregular verbs and their irregu- 
larities ? The conditions that regulate our progress in 
this department are those that reign in all the dryest 
parts of knowledge. The plastic forces must operate 
without depending on any stimulus of charm or liking 
for the work. 

The recognized principles of economy in acquisition 
need to be sedulously attended to, wherever the ele- 
ments are both multitudinous and unattractive. The 
work has to be divided into portions for each day's 
share ; there is a proper allowance of time, strength, and 
attention, during the plastic periods of the day; the tasks 
are repeated carefully to the master, and stamped with 
his imprimatur and approval. Rehearsals of foregone 
tasks are made at due intervals. The young are stimu- 
lated by small gifts. These are the chief devices for 
overcoming dulness in all lessons of detail. 

As to the particular case of word-lessons, there are 
facilitating arts that the careful teacher does not overlook. 
Their mode of presentation to the mind, if by oral ut- 
terrince, should be characterized by clear, distinct, and 
even pleasing tones ; if by writing or print, the cha- 
racters should be plain, the lists symmetrically arranged. 
It is also a valuable aid to copy out carefully, important 
lists, schemes of declension and conjugation, and other 
technicalities. This is known to be one of the ways of 
stimulating attention, at least so long as copying is not 
a mere mechanical exercise. 



320 LANGUAGE TEACHING GENERALLY 

Next to these devices for the judicious management 
of the plastic faculty, we have the arts special to verbal 
acquisition, including the schemes of technical memory. 

It is a well known means of alleviating the burden of 
language details, to be able to detect latent similarities 
in the words to be associated, as in learning German, 
French and Latin. Many such similarities are open and 
apparent ; others can be made apparent by slight trans- 
mutations, which the teacher or dictionary can point out. 
This is the philological aid to the study of foreign lan- 
guages. 

The technical memory proceeds upon various other 
arts. The learning of lists of words is facilitated by the 
ancient device of casting them into verse; the saving 
by this means must be pronounced considerable. The 
making up of an intelligent sentence would have a 
similarly good effect; if the meaning were at all in- 
teresting, this plan would excel the other. 

Alphabetical arrangement renders a train of words 
much easier to acquire ; the link of alphabetical sequence 
being a sure one, lends itself as a help to the memory of 
words. Unless there be some special reason against it, 
this arrangement should always be followed. 

Another device still more peculiarly technical is the 
arranging of words in such a way that the meanings 
have some natural connection calculated to aid the 
memory. This is a modification of the topical memory 
of the ancient orators. 

With a view to the firm and permanent association 
of one word with another word, there should be a mo- 
ment of isolated and concentrated attention upon the 
two. This is gained in various ways. The turning up a 



VARIOUS METHODS. 32 I 

dictionary is the commonest way of isolating the atten- 
tion; to a young, fresh memory, one dictionary reference 
is usually enough, provided the words soon recur. An- 
other way is to hear the words deliberately pronounced 
by the master in translating a passage. The Hamiltonian 
method does not provide for the isolating of the atten- 
tion upon single words. A better method seems to be 
to prepare a series of exercises, each embodying two or 
three (and no more) new words. 

The mode of teaching languages in use in this country 
usually throws upon the pupil the labour of finding out 
the meaning of a passage, in the first instance, by the 
help of the dictionary; this being corrected and im- 
pressed by the repetition under the master. There seems 
no reason why this should not be combined with a little 
of the other method, namely, for the master to expound 
a passage fully, in the first instance, and then require 
the pupils to reproduce it next day, by memory, aided, 
if need be, by a reference to the dictionary when some- 
thing has been forgotten. One portion of a prescribed 
lesson might be given in this way, and the second por- 
tion left to the old method. No doubt the method of 
prior exposition is best suited to scientific lessons, as 
Geometry, but it is not wholly unsuitable to lessons of 
pure memory. 

I am waiving for the present all questions as to the 
grammatical teaching of language, and am merely ad- 
ducing situations where the joining of word to word is 
the essential fact. 

In an interesting lecture by Mr. Alexander J. Ellis, 
on the Teaching of Language, I find great stress laid on 
the statistical valuing of words according to their fre- 

Y 



322 LANGUAGE TEACHING GENERALLY. 

quency of recurrence. It is urged by Mr. Ellis that this 
relative frequency should determine the order of presen- 
tation of words in exercises. The plan is carried out 
by Mr. David Nasmith in reference both to English and 
to German. It supposes that the statistical frequency of 
words shall have been previously ascertained. The full 
carrying out of the principle would embrace, not only 
words, but phrases. 

I am disposed to think that this principle might have 
a much wider application than to language. It would 
be well if we could forecast the probable frequency of 
the use of every acquisition whatever, so that we might 
choose by preference those that oftenest come into play, 
and, I may add, on the most important occasions. Such 
a criterion would attest the high value of the Experi- 
mental Sciences, such as Physics and Chemistry, the 
smaller but yet considerable value of Mineralogy and 
Botany, and the very small value of many things much 
more prominent in our existing educations than any 
of these. As regards languages, however, the principle 
must be somewhat qualified. Although one word in a 
language may not occur so often as another, the two 
may be equally essential in the long run ; and it is 
scarcely worth drawing more than a few grades of dis- 
tinctions, beginning at the most indispensable words of 
all, taking next those that occur in the most ordinary 
speech, and so on ; leaving to the last the rarer and more 
technical or abstruse designations. Besides, the mere fact 
of frequency operates of itself; we do not need an arti- 
ficial scheme in order to bring forward, at an early stage, 
the recurring words ; we need only keep back for a time 
the words that are not frequent or essential. Yet if a 



INTEREST IN THE THINGS. 323 

word has to be learnt sooner or later, the period of learn- 
ing it cannot signify much ; the bringing forward of rare 
words before such as are common, could not in the 
nature of things be carried to the length of an abuse. 

The foregoing considerations belong to all language, 
and refer to the most characteristic situation of language 
acquirement. We shall now turn to the special situa- 
tion of learning the mother tongue, after which we can 
resume with more advantage the question of foreign 
languages. 

THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

At all the stages of learning the mother tongue, the 
purely verbal exercises are more or less accompanied 
with the occupation of the mind upon things. In Gram- 
mar, the disengagement from things is at the greatest. 

If we suppose the child to become acquainted, in the 
first instance, with a variety of objects, the imparting of 
the names is a welcome operation, and the mental fusion 
of each name and thing is rapidly brought about. Ac- 
cording as the object named has been fully perceived, 
and is well marked out from other objects, the learning 
of the name is easy. If the objects are in any way in- 
teresting, if they rouse or excite attention, their names are 
eagerly embraced. All through life we show an avidity 
for knowing the names of persons, operations, places, 
circumstances, that awaken our regards. On the other 
hand, if objects are but languidly cared for, or if they 
are inconspicuous, or confused with other things, we are 
indifferent both to the things themselves and to their 
designations. In this case, the first step is to secure a 
proper impression of the matter to be named. 



324 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

The more we enquire into the early teaching of lan- 
guage, the more shall we find it to be in great part the 
teaching of knowledge under difficulties. The child is 
soon brought into the situation of having to comprehend 
consecutive speech, many parts of which are devoid of 
meaning. But to explain the words that are blank to 
the mind, we have first to bring before the view things 
that have hitherto been entirely unknown. We have to 
communicate a knowledge lesson, supplemented by a 
verbal lesson, the first being by far the more serious of 
the two; indeed, the second is as nothing, after complete 
success in the first. If the teacher can but compass the 
knowledge difficulty, he does not need any extraordinary 
efforts or any refined methods for securing the adherence 
of the verbal expression. The faculties that are awake 
at the early period we are supposing, are more sponta- 
neously adequate for learning names when once the 
things are conceived, than for mastering the conceptions 
themselves. 

The real solution of the difficulty of teaching lan- 
guage at the first stages of intelligence, is the Object 
Lesson, or whatever we choose to call the beginnings of 
imparted knowledge. 

The chief bearing of language on the situation is 
this, namely, that the use of language, in speech or in 
books, is the occasion for bringing forward the things 
to be taught and explained. The best form of intro- 
ducing a fact would be its real occurrence, as when the 
child sees the evening star, and is there and then told 
something about it But listening to talk, and book- 
reading, bring forward things without any reference to 
their actual presentation ; and then some way of intro- 



LANGUAGE BRINGS UP KNOWLEDGE. 325 

ducing them has to be found ; the task being in many 
instances premature and impossible.V 

It is in the situation of fragmentary knowledge, that 
the verbal memory may take hold of language without 
understanding, of which enough has been said in a 
former connection (p. 205.) There is a kind of pre- 
occupation of the mind with terms, that acts as a spur 
to seek out the meanings by observing the occasions 
when they are used. The child may be familiarized 
with a name, as ' light,' for some time before grasping 
the sense. There is a sort of inductive process gone 
through, in singling out the true meaning from among 
the surrounding circumstances. All the inductive 
methods of Logic are applied by the child in connect- 
ing * light ' with its true meaning. With general names, 
there must be a generalizing operation, as in arriving at 
the meaning of ' round,' * heavy,' ' cold,* ' motion.' 

All this is but the language side of knowledge, and 
does not represent language culture as such, or what 
constitutes the domain of the language teacher. In 
order to frame a special language department, we must 
assume knowledge as at a stand-still, and consider the 
different ways, for better or for worse, of expressing any 
known fact, doctrine, or set of facts or doctrines. The 
knowledge teacher provides at least one mode of stating 
what he communicates, but he does not occupy himself 

' The explanation of the names occurring in the reading lessons is a 
large part of the teacher's work ; and the best methods of conducting it 
deserve to be studied. It follows in the track of the Object Lesson as dis- 
cussed in the foregoing chapter, but has certain distinctive peculiarities. 
In the Appendix I supply some additional illustrations to bring out the 
more delicate precautions in giving Object Lessons in their ordinary forms, 
and advert also to the present topic. 



326 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

with weighing the merits of all the different possible 
verbal statements of a piece of information. Division 
of labour is necessary to educate the whole man ; afford- 
ing, on one side, breadth of knowledge, on the other side, 
sufficiency, and even luxury, of expression. 

Let us assume at the outset, that the teacher devotes 
himself to following up, or if need be, to rectifying the 
work of the parent, in securing good articulation, and 
pronunciation, and a certain propriety of accent Nay 
more, the correction of vulgarisms and provincial errors, 
might be attended to from the first day that the pupil 
enters the school ; there is no need to wait for Grammar 
rules, to put a stop to the grosser errors of concord prevail- 
ing among the lower orders in this country. Although 
the delicacies of syntax cannot be given by the ear, the 
practice of the more educated households shows that 
children may be taught at once to say ' he w,' * they are^ 
' that (for those) sort of things,' and to make the proper 
distinctive applications of ' shall ' and ' will,' ' may ' and 
'can.'i 

The real division of labour between knowledge 
teaching and language teaching comes into prominence 
at the Grammar stage ; we do not confound the teaching 
of Grammar with the teaching of things. It is one of 



' As the teacher, in the National school, has to fight against the force 
of almost unanimous out-of-door usage, he might obtain support by the use 
of a little printed manual of the prevailing errors or vulgarisms in his 
district, which might be used long before the age of Grammar. Such 
manuals need not exceed twenty or thirty pages, and might be produced 
at the cost of a halfpenny. Their diffusion in the homes of the pupils would 
be a powerful aid to the influence of the master. They could be composed 
without formal rules, but with a sufficient variety of examples to show 
correct usage in all ordinary cases. 



LANGUAGE LESSONS PROPER. 327 

the advantages of a grammatical course to make the 
distinction apparent, to give an occasion for imparting 
language lessons, pure and simple. At the previous 
stages the teacher is often in doubt whether his teaching 
relates to things or to language, or to both ; the fact 
being, that he is always fluctuating between the two. 
The following remarks are intended to point out fully 
the difference of the two lessons. 

It has already been noted that the explanation of 
newly-occurring terms is for the most part thing-know- 
ledge. When the word ' slave ' is presented for the first 
time, an explanation of the state of slavery is provided, 
whereby a new idea is imparted to the pupil. This is 
in no sense a word lesson, although the occurrence of a 
word is the occasion for teaching the thing. If the pupil 
has had prior experience of things, without knowing 
their names, to give the name is a language lesson: 
this situation is not so frequent as the other. 

The first decided exemplification of language lessons 
on the great scale is the teaching of synonymous words. 
The best example of this is the perpetual passing to and 
fro between our two vocabularies— Saxon and Classical. 
The pupils bring with them the homely names for what 
they know, and the master translates these into the more 
dignified and accurate names ; or in reading, he makes 
the learned terms intelligible by referring to the more 
familiar. The multiplication of synonyms may be 
carried farther, by adducing figurative and poetical, as 
well as scientific, equivalents. Suppose the name ' die/ 
or ' death ' ; the learned equivalent is ' mortality,' but the 
figurative equivalents, together with the phrases and cir- 
cumlocutions, are very numerous — 'loss of life,' 'eternal 



328 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

sleep,' ' paying the debt to nature,' ' passing out of being,' 
' extinction,' * separation of soul and body,' ' sinking into 
the grave,' * going to our long home.' Now in extend- 
ing the list of these equivalents, the teacher is giving a 
verbal or language lesson. 

There is, nevertheless, a subtle reaction of the know- 
ledge of things, even in this exercise. The Figurative 
equivalents imply comparisons between the subject and 
other subjects, and are used to elucidate or intensify the 
meaning, provided they are themselves understood; 
while, if they are not as yet understood, the teacher may 
wish to make them so, and thereby enter upon an object 
lesson. As a rule, however, such digressions should be 
forborne ; if the figure is already known, it will work its 
effect, if not, it will do nothing for the present; while 
the name may be associated with the other names as part 
of the stock of synonyms. The phrase ' separation of 
soul and body ' is hardly intelligible to children ; but a 
good memory could learn it by rote as a designation of 
death, while the meaning is as yet very faintly con- 
ceived. 

The explanation of figures is not the only way that 
a lesson in synonyms may pass into a knowledge lesson. 
It is the fact that synonyms are rarely identical; they 
give different shades or degrees of meaning, or they 
present a thing from different points of view, or they 
are more or less vague or precise. Now any attempt 
to point out these distinctions would take the teacher 
into the knowledge sphere. 'Truth,' 'verity,' 'veracity,' 
'consistency,' have a common meaning, with differences 
that prevent their indiscriminate application. To point 
out these differences is to give a lesson in the subject- 



KNOWLEDGE CARRIES LANGUAGE. 329 

matter and not in the expression. Such lessons are not 
to be entered upon at random. 

It may be said with some plausibiHty that names 
should be learned at the time that we are informed of 
the exact ideas that they represent. And no doubt this 
is a sound principle, and is to be respected so far, that 
we should not purposely bring forward names whose 
meanings cannot be taken in at the same time. But as 
we cannot keep back words at pleasure, our only course 
is to let them be known with such vague or approximate 
signification as the pupil can readily imbibe, leaving their 
more delicate shades to be gathered by subsequent ex- 
perience. The temporary result is a malaprop use of 
words. The permanent utility is a command of terms 
for the purposes of selection. 

Let us turn now, by way of illustrative contrast, to 
the knowledge-master viewed as also a word-master. 
We have repeatedly seen that the proper order of ac- 
quirement is — Thing first. Name second ; which, if 
rigidly carried out, makes the knowledge-teacher the 
sole language-teacher. The limitations have just been 
noticed, and will appear more fully at an after stage. In 
the meantime, we are able to show that even as regards 
the wealth of synonyms, the knowledge-master need not 
be much behindhand. . It is not his purpose to exhaust 
all the conceivable ways of expressing every fact within 
his subject; but the necessities of explanation, when the 
matter is difficult, lead him to cite a considerable num- 
ber of ways, while he is almost sure to use them with 
discrimination. 

Thus, to take the force of Gravity. The teacher in 
explaining this force, must trust chiefly to exemplifying 



330 I'HE MOTHER TONGUE. 

it by familiar facts, as the descent of unsupported bodies. 
But he does not neglect the reference to the various names 
that have been used in connection with the force: 
'weight,' 'downward pressure,' 'falling to the ground,' 
'attraction,' 'drawing together,' 'mutual pulling,' 'de- 
flection from a straight course.' 

Some of these names are already associated in the 
hearer's mind with the working of gravity, and others 
will at some future time be associated, and are therefore 
advantageously planted in the memory. The language 
teacher could hardly go farther, in the direction of mere 
synonyms, at least until he leaves the strictly scientific 
handling, and strays into the fanciful or imaginative. 

Wide knowledge, gained through language commu- 
nication, ensures language acquisitions of the best kind — 
those that are fully represented by meanings. The giving 
and taking of names, by figurative transfer, is a purely 
language manipulation ; but it proceeds, in the first in- 
stance, on the perceptions of things, and becomes a 
matter of pure naming by synonyms, only when the 
figures have been hackneyed by use. 

To come back now to the position of the language 
master. We have seen how he enlarges the pupils' vo- 
cabulary, by adding to their stock of equivalent names. 
He might do this purposely and consciously, in every 
ordinary reading lesson ; but the thing comes about, with- 
out express intention, in another way. I have already 
remarked that for the early exercises in mere reading, 
the reading-books provide easy, intelligible stories, or 
descriptions, which give no strain to the attention, and 
are not to be pressed as knowledge lessons. Now these 
are calculated for lessons in language or naming. The 



COMMITTING PASSAGES TO MEMORY. 33 1 

facts are familiar and easy ; the language is choice and 
even adorned, being much above what the pupils are 
accustomed to in connection with the same subjects ; 
and the expectation is that their language stores will 
be insensibly increased during the readings. To this 
end, the teacher contributes by the exercises that he 
founds upon the passages. In making the pupils re- 
member the story, its connection and turns, he puts a 
series of questions to be answered nearly in terms of 
the book, or in varied terms, still of the better forms of 
diction, which they are supposed to be contracting in 
the course of their reading. Any teacher can make the 
most of this situation, if he will only realize to himself 
that the chief point of his teaching at this stage is lan- 
guage, and not the knowledge of things. 

We are now at the point for considering the aids to 
language acquisition by committing passages to memory, 
more especially poetry. This may contribute to know- 
ledge, but it is not the best way of imparting knowledge, 
and its value must be appraised rather as regards lan- 
guage. It is, however, one of the oldest devices of 
teaching ; having the great merit of being plain and 
manageable, it is adapted to the lowest teaching ca- 
pacity, and nobody can say that it is devoid of useful 
results. It certainly stamps upon the mind the material 
both of thought and of language, and they must be very 
hopeless subjects that cannot turn it to some account. 
In the schools of Greece, the children committed tc 
memory, and recited, passages from the poets. Among 
the Jews the duty of teaching the children was, until a 
late period in Jewish history, imposed upon the parents, 
who could not adopt any higher method. Moreover the 



332 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

substance of the teaching was the Law, the Old Testament 
generally, and the traditions and rules of the Rabbis ; 
none of this could be anything but memory work. In 
all modern schools, the practice exists more or less ; in 
the French Lycees, at the present time, the culture of 
style is largely carried on through the practice of learn- 
ing by heart the French classics. I say nothing at 
present of the learning of catechisms, hymns, and Bible 
passages, with a view to religious education. 

Poetry has the natural preference in this exercise. 
The impressiveness of the measure, the elevation of the 
style, the awakening of emotion, favour its hold on the 
memory. Now a store of remembered poetry is a trea- 
sure in itself ; its first: effect is emotional, and its second- 
ary uses are intellectual ; it contains thoughts, images 
and language, of more or less worth, and such as are 
capable of taking part in our future intellectual construc- 
tions. Impassioned and rhythmical prose holds the next 
place ; if it be inferior in form to poetry, it is yet more 
likely to be available in our own compositions. 

To make poetry a source of pleasurable recollections 
in after life, it should be congenial from the first, and not 
too much of a mere task. The best of all our poetry 
stores are voluntary ; to yield pleasurable emotion, 
an acquirement, like mercy, should not be strained. If 
it is to be made a task, it should be at an early age, 
when the despotic measures of the school are less taken 
to heart, and easily effaced. From seven to ten, the 
mind is in every respect more pliable to this particular 
work, than from ten to fifteen. 

But now as to the intellectual worth of the acquire 
ment, more especially for the end at present in view. 



PASSAGES IN POETRY AND IN PROSE. 333 

progress in the vocables of the language. Granting the 
facility in treasuring up compositions in poetry, we must 
not be blind to its weaknesses. The form, the compact- 
ness, the feeling, the touches of lofty diction, — transport 
us with the piece as a whole, without our troubling our- 
selves about the meanings of the parts, least of all, the 
individual words. It is only in the greatest masters, 
that we are made alive to the sense of each word, and 
not always in them. Take as an example, the following 
couplet, and note the sources of its impressions on a 
youthful mind : — 

Thy spirit, Independence, let me share, 
Lord of the lion heart, and eagle eye. 

It is quite enough to commend the couplet to a lusty 
youthful soul, that it draws upon the egotistic feeling, 
by the fact of sharing the spirit of some lord, no matter 
who, or what, he is the lord of The meaning of ' Inde- 
pendence ' is not thought of at all ; nay, little is done 
even to conceive the ' lion heart ' or ' eagle eye.' The lines 
would have their full inspiration, and would find a ready 
admission to the young memory, if they were written — 

Thy spirit, Mumbo-Jumbo, let me share, 
Lord of the Tweedle-dum and Noodle-three. 

It thus happens that poetry, above all other things, 
may be committed to memory as three-fourths words, 
and one-fourtli meaning. It is enough that a vague 
thread of sense is traceable, provided interesting emo- 
tions are kindled in its track. 

Prose passages are less easy to commit, but more 

likely to be turned to account, than poetry. It is not, 

however, the highest economy to prescribe long compo- 
16 



334 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

sitions. What we want for ready use is a well-turned 
sentence form, or a suitable designation or phrase for 
some meaning that we are at loss to render. Now the 
stringing together of the sentences of a long passage 
does not contribute to the resuscitation that we desire ; 
this is served more by the impressing of sentences indi- 
vidually, and especially such as have some marked and 
valuable characteristics, either in structure or in phrases. 
For very young pupils, these exemplary forms cannot 
be made apparent ; and if they are to have their lan- 
guage memory strictly artificial, it can only be by the 
rote memory of passages. At the age of critical under- 
standing, the committing of pieces at length should give 
place to the impressing of selected examplars, in the 
shape of single sentences or short series of sentences, made 
alive by critical exegesis or the singling-out of merits 
and defects. The pupils in the French Lycees should 
be looked upon as beyond the age when power of ex- 
pression is best cultivated by the mechanical memory 
of passages however good. The practice with them 
savours of French drill and of inability to discriminate 
and criticize. The pupil will willingly absorb into his 
memory sentences and short passages that he has been 
awakened to appreciate and admire. 

With advanced pupils, one of the best opportunities 
for committing to memory passages of poetry and ex- 
emplary prose, is in connection with exercises of recita- 
tion and delivery. 

The foregoing remarks on the education in lan- 
guage by itself have had chiefly in view mere vo- 
cables, although the illustration has sometimes extended 
to the other part of language, namely. Structure. This 



SENTENCE STRUCTURES. . 335 

part needs to be more closely viewed on its own ac- 
count. In the practice of speech, in listening to speech, 
and in reading, w^e imbibe the structural arrangements 
of words in sentences and trains of sentences ; and the 
passages that we learn by heart give us models of sen- 
tences as well as words and phrases. Long before we 
grammatically dissect a sentence, we are supposed to 
have been familiar with all the leading varieties of sen- 
tence forms. 

Now the schoolmaster may allow the accumulation 
of sentence types to proceed silently with the reading 
lessons, or he may do something expressly to quicken 
the process of stamping them on the memory. I assume 
that the age of Grammar has not yet arrived ; and hence 
the science of sentences is not entered upon. That age 
is, nevertheless, drawing near; and there may, con- 
ceivably, be a preparation for it, not to say a certain 
amount of independent tuition having the same final 
result, although not in the same complete form. 

As has been said of vocables, so we may say of 
sentences, they follow the acquirement of meanings 
or thoughts. A fact needs a sentence to express it : a 
simple fact, a simple sentence ; a complicated fact, a 
complicated sentence. ' The sun has set,' is a simple 
fact in simple sentence form, 'If you ascend to a height 
you will see the sun reappear,' is a conditional fact in a 
conditional sentence. If we have learnt, by verbal com- 
munication, many simple facts and many complicated 
facts, we have learnt many simple sentences and many 
complicated sentences. What more do we want.? The 
answer is that, as with vocables, there is great conve- 
nience in knowing all the language forms for the same 



336 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 

fact, simple or complicated. The learning of these 
additional, or supernumerary forms, is an education 
relating not to things, but to language. 

As with vocables, sentence forms are best learnt in 
company with the knowledge that they are to express, 
and should not be made to precede that knowledge. The 
limitations to the principle have been sufficiently given. 

Now as to the schoolmaster's province, in teaching 
or impressing these forms. The analogy of vocables 
still applies. The teacher having before him a given 
sentence, expressing a certain piece of information, can 
point out to his pupils, and exercise them in discerning 
and producing other sentence arrangements, with or with- 
out variation of the words employed. This is the best 
device yet promulgated for anticipating the formal 
teaching of Grammar ; only; it must be done upon 
system, although the system need not be obtruded on 
the pupils. When we come to put the question — What 
does Grammar (in our own language) do for usi* — we shall 
find that this is one of its chief benefits. 

Among the most simple examples of equivalence is 
the change from the Active to the Passive Voice — 'Caesar 
invaded Britain,' 'Britain was invaded by Caesar.' Another 
is the interchange of Noun and Pronoun. We may 
further cite the conversion of Nouns into Noun clauses, 
of Adjectives into phrases and clauses, of Adverbs (single 
words) into phrases and clauses. 

One of the most valuable preparatory exercises of 
equivalence is the filling up of omissions or ellipses, so 
common in every language as to be an authorized fact 
of the language. Half the difficulties of grammatical 
parsing grow out of these ellipses. * Please to give me 



VARIATIONS IN ARRANGEMENT. 337 

something to drink ' is a grammatical puzzle till the full 
expression is given — ' May it please you to give me 
something that I may drink.' The use of nouns as ad- 
jectives is altogether elliptical — ' stone walls,' * walls that 
are made of stone,' Another important contraction is 
the turning of clauses into abstract nouns — ' What we 
see, we believe,' ' seeing is believing,' ' sight is belief 

The arrangement of words and clauses in sentences 
admits of great variation. Qualifying words may either 
precede or follow the words qualified, but there is usually 
one arrangement that is best in the particular case. At 
the early stages of the exercise, there is little attempt 
made to show preferences ; the perception of the pupils 
is not sufficiently advanced; but opportunities should be 
taken of leading them on to this point, which is the goal 
of all language-teaching: 

The teacher can form to himself a scheme of varia- 
tions, for which Grammar and his own sense will be the 
guide. He will not iterate easy changes, nor harp upon 
such as are devoid of importance. He will know what 
are the variations most needed in composition, and most 
adapted to bring out clearness and succinctness of ex- 
pression ; but he will not as yet divulge his motives or 
his reasons. Although it is enough for him to have in 
view the exigencies of Grammar, he may also ring a 
few of the rhetorical changes that are of common oc- 
currence — as inversion of subject and predicate, interro- 
gation, exclamation, metaphor and metonymy.' 

' The methods of teaching by means of Equivalent Forms has been 
systematically and fully exemplified in a First Work on English, by Mr. A. 
F. Murison. The plan of the work is accommodated to a complete view 
of the Parts of Speech, and the Analysis of the Sentence; while it maybe 



33S TEACHING GRAMMAR. 

By far the most searching equivalence of verbal forms 
is Obversion, or the stating of a fact from its other side ; 
' virtue is praiseworthy,' ' vice is blameworthy.' * Thrice- 
armed is he that hath his quarrel just ; ' ' naked is he whose 
quarrel is unjust' ' Heat favours vegetation,' 'cold retards 
it' This passes beyond mere grammar ; it is profoundly 
logical and also rhetorical ; while as a discipline it is one 
of the most effective exercises that has hitherto been 
discovered. Quietly, unostentatiously, might a teacher 
now and then require this operation to be performed by 
a class in some favourable instance, and the result would 
be stimulating to a degree. It should only be done if 
the case carries with it its own explanation. * If* virtue 
is praiseworthy,' what are we to say of the opposite of 
virtue, vice .'* Any pupil of eight would be ready with a 
reply.^ 

TEACHING GRAMMAR. 

The exact scope and suitable choice of these fore- 
shadowings of the regular Grammar will be rendered 
still more apparent by a full consideration of the greatly- 
vexed matter of Grammar teaching. 

used either in advance of the grammatical definitions, or along with them. 
Especially valuable is the exemplification of Ellipsis, which contains the 
best key hitherto furnished to those numerous subtleties of our Grammar 
that originate in abbreviation. 

' Take an easy example of the variations contemplated : — The sun is up, 
is risen, is above the horizon, has ascended, has mounted up the sky, has 
come into sight, has resumed his empire ; is no longer down, beneath the 
horizon, concealed from view, dethroned. The verbal changes that may be 
rung upon the influence of the solar ray are still more numerous. 

The synonyms for birth, life, and death are inexhaustible ; they stretch 
away into wide regions both of fact and of imagination. From Homer 
downward, poets have been adding to the stock of expressive phrases for 
mortality. 



OUR POSITION IN BEGINNING GRAMMAR. 339 

We arc too much given to supposing that the neces- 
sities and the benefits of Grammar are the same for our 
own and for foreign languages ; yet the difference of 
situation is considerable. Before we begin our own 
Grammar, we have learnt, in a desultory fashion, the 
great body of what it teaches ; when we begin the Latin 
Grammar, we find everything new. We could go on 
speaking and writing our own language very well with- 
out having ever seen a Grammar; we could not read 
a sentence in Latin, without some previous grammatical 
teaching. 

This last condition might be evaded, by our being 
put through a course for a dead language similar to what 
we have gone through for our own ; but the process is a 
clumsy attempt. at reproducing a situation that cannot 
be reproduced; the only thing approaching to it, being 
the learning of a foreign living language by residence in 
the country. In beginning any new language, if we are 
at an age when the knowing and reasoning faculties are 
operative, our quickest course is to learn the Grammar. 
The reason is obvious. The Grammar abridges the 
labour, by generalizing everything that can be gene- 
ralized. 

No doubt the rules and the usages are sadly cumbered 
with exceptions, which make the acquisition burdensome; 
but that is not a sufficient reason for dispensing with 
them. Cobbett, in his self-willed way of doing things, 
proposed to set aside the rules for distinguishing the 
French genders, and to adopt a scheme of mastering 
them in detail by writing out all the nouns in the French 
dictionary. It could easily be shown not only that this 
would be a much greater strain upon the memory than 



340 TEACHING GRAMMAR. 

the whole body of rules together with the exceptions, 
but that the learner would unconsciously resort to the 
plan of making rules for himself out of the uniformities 
that presented themselves in the operation ; as, for ex- 
ample, the feminine gender of the abstract nouns. 

Let us enquire closely into the real uses of Grammar ; 
these will furnish the best guide as to the manner ol 
teaching it. 

I. The avoidance of the grosser forms of grammatical 
impropriety is a proper object of instruction, but does 
not need the amount of technical matter found in 
grammars of the present day. The vulgar errors in 
concord could be met by a much simpler means already 
adverted to. But the thorough expurgation of impro- 
prieties in the grammatical form of composition, could 
not be easily achieved without a much fuller scheme, in- 
volving what is the essential technicality of grammar — 
the laying out of the Parts of Speech, on which are 
founded Inflexion and Syntax. A few persons, ac- 
customed only to the best forms of the language, might 
approximate to a faultless style without grammar teach- 
ing ; but not so the general mass. By the ear alone, we 
may be taught to avoid ' houses is ' ; but the insidious 
breaches of concord due to the distance of the subject and 
the verb — ' the price put upon the houses are,' can hardly 
be explained without the terminology of Grammar. So, 
'shall' and 'will,' and 'should' and 'would,' in commoner 
cases, may be correctly discriminated, but not in the more 
delicate or involved constructions, without grammatical 
assistance. 

2. It is, to my mind, a circumstance of some value 
in favour of grammar that by it, for the first time, the 



DISTINCTIVE USES OF GRAMMAR. 34! 

teacher isolates the attention of the pupils upon the 
language by itself. I have just been depicting a series 
of supposed lessons on language as such, before the age 
of grammar, and calculated to prepare for the formal 
teaching; but these lessons are of my own imagining; 
they have not yet been adopted in the current teaching. 
Teachers are feeling their way to a division of labour 
between knowledge lessons and language lessons prior 
to the formal teaching of the grammar; but speaking 
generally, there is as yet little attention paid to the 
structure of sentences, until forced on by the exercises 
in grammatical parsing. It is the grammar that solves 
the question — How shall we bring the pupils under a 
discipline in the forms of the language irrespective of 
the matter } Whether this is a good in itself, depends on 
the next position. 

3. It is an aid to readiness, ease, correctness, and 
effectiveness of composition, to be led to examine the 
structure, arrangement, and constituents of the sentence. 
We may dispense with this training, but it will be to our 
loss ; we shall not compass the arts of style so rapidly 
in any other way. This supposes a function of Grammar 
beyond avoiding censurable improprieties or violations 
of usage. That there is such a function has been al- 
ready indicated. That consideration of equivalent sen- 
tence forms which miglijb be induced without the aid of 
grammar, is almost compelled in the act of teaching 
grammar. Only a very mechanical .system of parsing 
can keep clear of it. 

This position ought to be self-evident. It may be 
illustrated thus. Suppose anyone at a loss to express a 
given meaning. The difficulty is due in the first instance 



342 . TEACHING GRAMMAR. 

to want of vocables, and next to want of resource in 
shaping sentences. How do we get experience on the 
last head ? Partly, no doubt, by extensive reading, but 
equally by the habit of dissecting, putting together and 
varying the sentences that come up for review in lan- 
guage lessons. Teachers should be fully alive to the 
importance of the fact, and should conduct grammar 
parsing in accordance with it. That is to say, the words 
are to be parsed in their connections, and with reference 
to their functions, as principals or as qualifying words, 
and as to their efficiency for their ends, when compared 
with other equivalent words. This is to rehearse in 
advance the actual situation of the pupils when they shall 
have to engage in composition on their own account. 

The Parts of Speech, and Syntax — ^in so far as it is 
concerned with the Analysis of Sentences, and Order of 
Words — are the portions of grammar most directly 
implicating sentence-structure. 

4. Grammar contributes, in some of its departments, 
to the pupils' wealth in the vocables of the language. 
The iteration of examples everywhere has this effect; 
but the departments of Derivation and Inflexion are 
more expressly concerned. Under Derivation, consider- 
able portions of the vocabulary pass under review, and 
are lodged in the memory. The comparison of Saxon 
with foreign elements is an exercise in naming. The 
study of prefixes and suffixes extends the familiarity 
with our means of expression, by showing the compass 
attained through the Composition of words. This has 
the recommendation of being free from all technical 
difficulties and abstruseness, for which reason it has 
been recommended as the branch best suited for a com- 



AID TO ACCUMULATING VOCABLES. 343 

mencement in grammatical training. Next, as regards 
Inflexion, The lists of words brought forward in exem- 
plifying gender and number make some impression, and 
contribute to our readiness in remembering the words 
when they are wanted. Teachers do well not to make 
a point of burdening the routine memory with the 
strings of words adduced in these subjects; there is 
more likelihood of a lasting result being obtained by the 
spontaneous and unavoidable dwelling upon them for 
the exer. 'Ification of the rules, and this too is favour- 
able to the recovery of the individual names for use 
in composition. 

Inflexion is the chief burden of the Latin Grammar; 
there, it is the sole means of distinguishingfcthe Parts of 
Speech. Hence Latin Grammar is much easier — more 
a work of memory and less a work of reason — than 
English Grammar. Had Latin been our native tongue, 
and English one of the dead languages, the proposal to 
make the foreign Grammar precede our own would 
have been denounced as monstrous. 



The age for commencing Grammar. 

Many persons are beginning to see the mistake of 
commencing Grammar with children of eight or nine 
years of age. Experience must have impressed teachers 
with the futility of the attempt. Simplifications of 
various kinds have been tried. Easy ways of presenting 
the subject have been suggested to commence w^ith; the 
difficulties being postponed. Unfortunately for such 
attempts, the difficulties lie at the threshold, and cannot 
be evaded without rendering the entire subject a nullity. 



344 TEACHING GRAMMAR. 

The Parts of Speech cannot be understood at all unless 
they are understood fully. 

When a pupil can be made to understand that a 
Sentence is made up of a Subject and a Predicate, that 
the predicate may be completed by an Object, and that 
subject, object and predicate may be qualified by secon- 
dary words, — a beginning may be made in Grammar. 
It is further to be desired that the logical notions of 
Individual, General and Abstract, should be understood 
by the pupil ; for all these are essential to an intelligent 
grasp of the Noun and the Adjective. A certain amount 
of subtlety is needed to discern the meaning of words 
of relation, by which grammarians describe Pronouns, 
Prepositions and Conjunctions ; and this subtlety sup- 
poses the pupil to have attained a certain age. 

The suggestion is often made, and is probably acted 
on by some teachers, to teach grammar without book ; 
on the assumption that the difficulties are not inherent 
in the subject, but come into being when it is reduced 
to form and put into the pupils' hands in print. There 
must be some fallacy here. What is printed is only what 
is proper to be said by word of mouth ; and if the teacher 
can express himself more clearly than the best existing 
book, his Avords should be written down and take the 
place of the book. No matter what maybe the peculiar 
felicity of the teacher's method, it may be given in print 
to be imitated by others, and so introduce a better class 
of books; the reform that proposes to do away with 
books entirely, thus ending in the preparation of another 
book. 

Perhaps the teacher will reply that he does not pro- 
pose anything absolutely original, but merely to select 



WORKING WITHOUT BOOK. 345 

such points as the pupils can understand, being guided 
by his natural tact and judgment as to what he finds to 
succeed. Even so, it is quite possible to embody this 
selection in a permanent form ; and what is good for one 
class is likely to answer for other classes at the same 
stage. Again, it may be said that the children are not 
of an age to imbibe the doctrines from a printed book, 
but can understand them when conveyed with the living 
voice. There is much truth in this, but it does not go 
the length of superseding the book, which will still have 
a value as a means of recalling what the teacher has 
said, and as the basis of preparation to answer questions 
thereon. If a class is to be taught purely viva voce, its 
progress must needs be very slow ; the proceeding be- 
longs to the infantile stages, when slowness is not an 
objection. 

To teach Grammar without a printed text, is like 
teaching Religion without a manual or catechism ; either 
the teacher still uses the catechism, without the print, 
or he makes a catechism for himself. There can be no 
te'iching except on a definite plan and sequence, and 
good, instead of harm, arises from putting the plan in 
print. The grammar teacher, working without books, 
either tacitly uses some actual grammar, or else works 
upon a crude, untested, irresponsible grammar of his 
own shaping. 

Taking English Grammar as a whole, easy parts and 
difficult together, I venture to think that it cannot be 
effectively taught to the mass before ten years of age. To 
smooth over the asperities, and to pick out what happens 
to be simple, in order to adapt it to an earlier age, is not 
to teach the subject in its proper character, but as a 



346 TEACHING GRAMMAR. 

mongrel compound, half-understood and quite inade- 
quate for the ends of grammar. It is the worst economy 
to anticipate the mind's natural aptitude for any subject ; 
and the aptitude for Grammar in its true sense does not 
exist at eight or nine years of age. I have already ex- 
pressed the opinion that it is more difficult than Arith- 
metic, and is probably on a par with the beginnings of 
Algebra and Geometry. Commenced at a ripe age, not 
only is the tedium of the acquisition vastly reduced, but 
the advantages are realized in a way that is impossible 
when it is entered on too soon. 

This postponement is open to one and only one real 
objection, so far as I am aware. It leaves a gap in the 
teaching that there is some difficulty in filling up. If the 
teacher is to exclude grammar, he must exclude English 
exercises entirely, and make the whole of his teaching, 
as far as concerns the reading part, consist of knowledge 
lessons, in which region also he often incurs the evil, of 
attempting matters too high for the pupils at the time. 
There would seem to be an absolute necessity for contriv- 
ing lessons in English, whether amounting to grammar 
or not. The difficulties of grammar are the difficulties of 
all science — generalities couched in technical language ; 
and there is a possible preparation of the concrete and 
the empirical here as in other sciences. 

This brings us back to what has been said already 
as to the province of the teacher in regard to expres- 
sion as distinct from the thought or meaning ; namely, 
exercising the pupils in equivalent forms, while at the 
same time adding to their stock of vocables by practice 
in synonyms. Whether or not this be a direct prepara- 
tion for grammar, it is a preparation for the end of 



PREPARATORY EXERCISES. 347 

grammar — the power of composition — and would not be 
lost even if the regular or technical grammar were never 
reached. 

The more special preparation for the formal study of 
the grammar would be, for one thing, to exemplify the 
division of a sentence into its subject and predicate, 
without the use of these formidable words. Apropos of 
a sentence of information about something — 'the fox 
is a very crafty animal ' — it is easy to ask what the 
saying is about ? The fox. What is said about the 
fox ? It is a very crafty animal. To this might be 
added exercises in the names of objects, so as to bring 
out the difference between individuals and classes, and 
to show how the class noun comes, and how it is nar- 
rowed by an adjective into a smaller class. These 
logical distinctions might be started on the eve of enter- 
ing grammar, say a few months in advance. They are 
a small contribution to genuine logic, and it is only 
through them that grammar can be cited as the means 
of a logical training. Provided with such a discipline, 
the pupil can make an effective beginning with the Parts 
of Speech, by grappling with the Noun, its definition and 
its kinds ; while the other logical notions that lie ahead 
may be left till they come up. I will instance further 
the important distinction between co-ordination and sub- 
ordination, without which the relative pronouns and the 
conjunctions are dark where they ought to be in a blaze 
of light. 

Two years before the age of grammar, the lesson in 
English might be isolated in the reading. This is the 
only way to give it a clear locus standi in education. 
Putting a grammar question or two during an informa- 



348 TEACHING GRAMMAR. 

tion lesson is a kind of trifling. If the information is of 
any consequence, it needs the attention to be kept well 
upon itself ; if the language lesson is in earnest, it equally 
wants concentration of mind ; and the rapid shifting to 
and fro rapidly between two totally different studies is 
adverse to both. A reading lesson is (i) a lesson for the 
mechanical art of reading, together with spelling, (2) a 
lesson in information, to be understood and remembered, 
and (3) a lesson in language. For a long time, the first 
lesson is the only thing considered : by and by, the 
second — the information — is taken in hand, and becomes 
a more and more engrossing part of the teacher's work, 
carrying, as a necessity, language with it. The third 
stage — language by itself^ is the latest of the three; and 
needs a special handling, which will not be given, unless 
it have a certain hour allotted to it alone. The informa- 
tion passages may be used for the language lesson, but 
the information is not to be adverted to further than is 
necessary for considering the language ; while there 
may be passages little suited for information, and well 
suited for language; such are extracts — poetry and prose, 
belonging more to the belles lettres. The lessons so iso- 
lated would be driven to take shape, and continuity ; 
they would inevitably form a course, each lesson follow- 
ing on its predecessor. The teacher would have to make 
up his mind to a plan, and would not be at a loss to find 
some such substitutes for the beggarly grammatical ele- 
ments as I have endeavoured to point out. The occa- 
sional committing of short elegant passages to memory 
might be associated with the language lesson. 

When the age of Grammar is reached, the problem 



CERTAIN DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 349 

of teaching it solves itself. It is a practical science, 
having general principles which become rules ; these 
need to be explained and applied to the particular cases. 
Instead of adopting devious routes to escape difficulties, 
the teacher now follows the direct course as chalked out 
by the concurrence of the best grammarians. There is 
still considerable variation of views as to the working 
out of the details ; and a few remarks may here be 
offered on the more important discrepancies. 

1. I hold that the subject of Inflexion should be 
separated from the Parts of Speech. The defining, 
classing, and exemplifying of the Noun, Pronoun, &c. 
constitute one distinct and homogeneous operation ; the 
inflecting of the inflected parts is quite a different sub- 
ject, and is best prosecuted consecutively and without 
interruption. 

2. The ' Analysis of Sentences,' which has been the 
turning-point of the radical reform in the Definition of 
the Parts of Speech, is not yet pushed to its legitimate 
conclusion in amending our Syntax. It enables us to 
take a sentence to pieces, and it puts qualifying phrases 
and clauses in their true light as equivalents of nouns, 
adjectives, and adverbs ; but it leaves out of view the con- 
sideration of the right ordering of the sentence through 
the proper disposition of the qualifying adjuncts. Yet 
this has more to do with good composition, than all the 
rest of the grammar put together. 

3. There is great interest, and some utility, in tracing 
the course of our language from the more ancient dia- 
lects, but this subject may easily run to a disproportionate 
length in the first stages of English teaching. Present 
meaning and use are the only guidance to the employ- 



350 THE HIGHER COMPOSITION. 

merit of the language ; the reference to archaic forms can 
sometimes account for a usage, but cannot control it. 

THE HIGHER COMPOSITION. 

Grammar and Rhetoric, or the Higher Composition, 
are not separated by any hard and fast line ; yet the 
two departments are distinct. To be grammatical is one 
thing ; to be perspicuous, terse, or unctuous, is another 
thing. 

In the view we have taken of grammar teaching, 
results far beyond mere correctness are attained. Never- 
theless there is still a large domain of instruction in 
Style; on entering which nev/ methods are called into 
play. 

Rhetoric-, like grammar, has its rules, which are to 
be understood, exemplified, and carried into practice in 
composition. Moreover, these rules must be embodied 
in a systematic array ; which supposes numerous ex- 
planations and definitions of important terms. The 
whole subject is divided into two Parts — one on Style 
in General, or the explanations, rules, and principles, 
applicable to every kind of composition ; the other on 
the special Forms or Kinds of Composition, as Descrip- 
tion, Narration, Exposition, Persuasion, Poetry. 

In a separate work (' English Composition and 
Rhetoric '), I have indicated what I consider a suitable 
arrangement of the details of the subject, and have also 
brought together and exemplified all the maxims and 
rules that I consider valuable. In commencing the first 
part (Style in general) with the Figures of Speech, I am 
guided by the universal recognition of certain leading 
designations, under which many of the Rhetorical prin- 



CHOICE OF EXERCISES. 35 I 

ciples are brought forward in advance. In point of fact, 
the Figures, well explained, are of themselves a short 
course of Rhetoric. The other matters required in a 
complete view of the Laws of Composition in general, 
are — the Qualities of Style, and the laws of the Sentence 
and the Paragraph. 

The explanation and exemplification of the various 
terms employed, and of the rules and principles of com- 
position, would seem to indicate with sufficient clearness 
the course to be pursued in the higher department of 
composition. Still, there is a certain latitude in the 
choosing of exercises, and the practice of teachers is 
very various in that respect. We may, therefore, offer 
a few words on the point. 

In the case of young pupils, there are very strong 
objections to Essay or Theme writing It is a contraven- 
tion of the all-pervading principle of teaching — to do one 
thing at a time. The finding of the matter absorbs half 
or more than half the attention of the learner, and leaves 
little room for the study of the style. Besides which, 
the writer necessarily travels over a wide compass of 
expression, and it is impossible for the master to take 
notice of all the faults and inadvertences ; while it is 
scarcely practicable to conduct a class, or impart simul- 
taneous criticism, by means of essays. 

In a composition exercise, the matter should be pro- 
vided, and the pupils required to find a suitable expres- 
sion. Something might be given in outline, which they 
are to expand ; but even this is too much of a subject 
lesson at the early stages. The conversion of poetry 
into prose is a very convenient exercise ; the danger is 
that, in stripping off the poetical form, the pupil does 



352 THE HIGHER COMPOSITION. 

not leave enough of energy and elegance to make good 
prose. A still better exercise, although less ready to 
hand, is to change the form of a given prose passage on 
some definite plan, arising out of the rhetorical lessons 
going on at the time : — to remove or insert figurative 
terms of expression ; to pare down redundancies, or to 
supply in a too curt passage some needful expansion ; 
to re-arrange sentences, upon definite principles ; to 
alter the proportions of the Classical and the Saxon 
words ; to vary, in all the best ways, the modes of ex- 
pressing the same thing. 

The standing devices connected with Agreement and 
Contrast should be well iterated. Under Agreement, 
come Example and Similitude; Contrast is the universal 
remedy of vagueness, and one of the chief arts of giving 
point to language. 

How to order sentences in a paragraph is a high and 
arduous undertaking. It is best studied upon the pas- 
sages that occur in reading ; which passages may be 
prescribed for rearrangement, according to principles 
laid down. The making of a good paragraph is nearly 
the highest feat of orderly expression as such. The 
arrangement of a discourse contains scarcely any new 
difficulties of mere composition. 

The exercise that seems to me to comply best with 
the requirements of the composition lesson, is the critical 
exegesis of good prose and poetry passages, conducted 
along with a course of rhetorical instruction. I have 
given abundant examples of this in another place (' Eng- 
lish Composition and Rhetoric '). The pupil's mind, in 
these lessons, is wholly bent upon the ways and means 
of expression ; and I scarcely know any other exercise 



GOOD AND BAD IN STYLE. 353 

that is equally recommendable on the same vital circum- 
stance. 

The whole gist of rhetorical teaching, as thus viewed, 
is to awaken the minds of the pupils to the sense of 
good and evil in composition. This I take to be the 
prime requisite. For, although in order to write well, a 
command of expression is even more necessary than the 
power to judge of good writing ; yet, the teacher can do 
but little for the one, and can do a great deal for the 
other. Affluence of language is the fruit of years ; very 
many of the niceties and delicacies of composition may 
be made apparent in a six months' course. On the sup- 
position, however, that a portion of time is continuously 
devoted to the English Language for a series of years, a 
vast deal may be done to impart both abundance of 
phraseology and the effective employment of it. 

There is a preparation for the formal and methodical 
teaching of Rhetoric and Style, analogous to the pre- 
paration for grammar ; namely, to vary rhetorically the 
occurring modes of expression, and to indicate the better 
and the worse, without reasons. In some points, the 
pupils' own feeling of the superiority of one form as 
compared with another, would come into play, and 
might receive direction from the master. The variations 
caused by the presence and the absence of Figure, the 
changes in the arrangement of Sentences, would be felt 
before the age of rhetorical system. 

In the course of promiscuous reading, the pupils 
might be gradually awakened to such leading Qualities 
of Style as Clearness, Strength, Pathos. By well- 
selected instances, they might be made to discern the 
difference between Simplicity and its opposite, also be- 



354 ENGLISH LITERATURE. 

tween Strength and Feeling or Pathos. A farther step 
would consist in calling attention to the methods and 
arts of attaining those effects ; although, apart from 
regular rhetorical instruction, this could not be carried 
out with advantage. 

ENGLISH LITERATURE. 

The teaching of English Literature is liable to all 
the perplexities attendant on the framing of a course of 
History. It is a mixture of what is easy, intelligible, 
and interesting to the youngest, with what is technical 
and abstruse, and accessible only to the mature mind. 
Just as in General History, there is no possibility of 
contriving a course that shall in every point keep the 
steady level of the juvenile capacity. 

Our great authors can be arranged in an interesting 
Chronology, and this might be fixed in the memory, 
long before the characteristics of each could be under- 
stood. Their lives also could be read, as narrative 
interest ; including also the mention of their works, the 
dates and subjects of these, with a few necessarily vague 
expressions respecting their merits. This is scarcely 
lesson work ; it is rather the amusement of growing 
minds. 

The History of Literature, narrowed to its strict 
domain, is the criticism of literary works in all that re- 
lates to style or composition. What makes the History 
is the regarding of our English authors in a connected 
series, each having more or less relation to the preced- 
ing. This historical treatment of Literature is itself a 
branch of the Belles Lettres, being always conducted 
with studious regard to the graces of composition. 



SELECTION OF AUTHORS. 355 

The basis of literary criticism, whether of detached 
authors, or of the Hterary succession, is rhetorical know- 
ledge, or an exact acquaintance with the qualities and 
the laws of style, gained in the manner that we have 
above sketched. The great fault in the early teaching 
of English Literature, is to address it to minds so little 
acquainted with literary qualities as not to comprehend 
the meaning of the terms employed. After the rheto- 
rical nomenclature is properly unfolded, criticism and 
history are self-explaining. 

At the present time, the teaching of Literature in 
schools has taken the form of the study of selected works 
of the greatest English authors, from Chaucer down- 
wards. There is now provided an ample series of such 
works, with every needful aid in the way of commentary 
or annotation. Two points have to be considered in 
connection with the working of this method : the first 
as to the selection of authors, the second as to the way 
of handling them. 

L In the selection, the later authors are to be pre- 
ferred to the earlier, and the prose authors to the poets. 
The first of these two maxims proceeds on the fact that 
English prose st3'le has improved, and is improving ; 
while the thoughts and the general interest are still more 
in favour of the inoderns. Hooker and Bacon and 
Temple, were in their day great writers of prose ; but, 
for our purpose, they are surpassed by Burke and Hall 
and Macaulay. The pupil, at the outset, should see 
prose at its very best ; and should be led backwards to 
the less perfect examples. The interest of many of the 
older prose writers, although not entirely exhausted, 



356 ENGLISH LITERATURE. 

undergoes an almost steady decrease with the lapse of 
time ; and only in sample are they fit to occupy the 
hours of an English class. It is in setting forth the 
History of Literature, considered as the development 
of the literary form, that they have their most suitable 
place. 

The value of style does not depend on the matter 
conveyed, but the interest of the subject has much to 
do with the impression made by the language. If the 
thoughts have become effete, if the subject, whatever 
it is, has been much better handled by later authors, 
our attention flags, and none but extraordinary merits 
of style can detain us. Moreover, style comes home to 
us with most effect, when it io accompanied by matter 
that we are ready to cling to for its own sake. 

The second maxim — to give the preference to prose 
authors, in early teaching — proceeds on the practical 
consideration that prose is what we habitually employ ; 
while poetry is for our enjoyment, like music and paint- 
ing. If it is not waste of time, it is at least great dis- 
proportion, to keep a class occupied for months on a 
play of Shakespeare, or on three Books of ' Paradise Lost* 
No doubt many of the exercises performed on a prose 
lesson can be performed on poetry; and moreover, the 
greatest efforts of style as such are put forth by the 
poets. Yet the argument is unanswerable, that if these 
exercises are to improve our own composition, it is as 
prose composers ; and for a good model of prose we 
must refer, not to a poet, but to a writer of prose. 

Unless the space allowed for English is very con- 
siderable, as it might be if Classics were displaced from 
the higher education, poetry can come in only by selected 



SEPARATING LANGUAGE AND MATTER. 357 

passages. It must be referred to in Rhetorical teaching, 
as exempHfying the Qualities and the Arts of Style; 
and that is as much as, in my judgment, should be 
attempted. We may admire Chaucer, Shakespeare, 
Milton, and Pope, but they are not the one thing needful 
in an English class. The best English teaching would 
say little about them at the time, but would, nevertheless, 
give the pupils the aptitude and the zest for reading 
them when they have left school. Not one of these 
writers is child's play. None of them can be read with 
any tolerable appreciation before eighteen or twenty ; 
aud the full enjoyment of them is much later. 

II. As regards the best mode of using the selected 
works of our great authors, I have to fall back once 
more upon the great principle of Division of Labour — 
the separation of the language from the matter, A 
portion of Bacon, of Addison, of Burke, of Macaulay, 
— may be a knowledge lesson, or it may be a language 
lesson. In present practice, it is apt to be both. But, 
as I have said, the English teacher should have nothing 
to do with the matter, except in relation to the manner. 
He may read with his pupils Burke on the French Re- 
volution, but he should not trouble them with the 
political thoughts, but only with the conduct and me- 
thod of the exposition — with the sentences, the para- 
graphs, the illustrations, the figures, the qualities, the 
diction. He does not need to make them con the en- 
tire treatise, with its interminable repetitions. It is his 
business to indicate important peculiarities in the ex- 
pression and in the handling— what to imitate and what 
to avoid in the one or in the other. When he has got 

out everything of this kind that the work can yield, he 
17 



358 ENGLISH LITERATURE. 

has done enough. It is not his business to teach poh'- 
tical philosophy ; and if it were, a much better handbook 
could be found for beginners in that subject. 

The teacher of advanced classes in English does 
not even undertake to explain difficulties or obscurities 
of meaning, except to point a language lesson. It is 
doubtful how far he should take upon himself to explain 
figurative allusions; he certainly should not charge him- 
self with interpreting the far-fetched comparisons of 
florid writers and poets, nor make these the occasion for 
giving desultory information in history, mythology, geo- 
graphy, natural history, manners and customs. Such 
explanations are suitable in those early reading lessons 
wherein meaning and language are not yet differentiated. 
But in the later stages of instruction in style, such things 
are to be forborne. General information is now given 
in most subjects by systematic teaching ; and the mis- 
cellaneous contributions from the allusions of poets are 
superseded by a more excellent way. Pupils need not 
follow out the references to the similes of Milton farther 
than to feel their force ; and such as need much explain- 
ing may be passed over. The pressing matter is, to be 
led to discriminate the effects of the composition, and 
to see what are the arts that bring about these effects. 

The same rigid principle of division of labour would 
exclude from English teaching whatever relates to the 
history, manners and customs of the country, and all 
occasions for calling forth patriotic and moral sentiment. 
Such matters obviously belong to historical and other 
teaching, and should not be encroached upon by the 
English master any more than by the Drawing master. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

The chapter on Education Values was purposely left 
incomplete; the vexed question of the study of the 
Classics demanding a separate and full discussion. As 
respects the Higher Education this is the most important 
of all the questions that can be raised at the present 
time. The thorough-going advocates of Classics hold 
Latin and Greek to be indispensable to a liberal educa- 
tion. They do not allow of an alternative road to our 
University Degrees. They will not admit that the lapse 
of three centuries, with their numerous revolutions, and 
their vast developments of new knowledge, make any 
difference whatever to the education value of a know- 
ledge of the Greek and Roman -classics. They get over 
the undeniable fact, that we no longer employ these 
languages, as languages, by bringing forward a number 
of uses that never occurred to Erasmus, Casaubon or 
Milton. 

In the Middle Ages, the use of Latin was universal. 
After the taking of Constantinople, Greek literature 
burst upon Western Europe, and so entranced the choicer 
spirits as to bring about a temporary revival of Paganism. 
To the Christian scholarly enquirer, Greek was welcomed 
as laying open the original of the New Testament, to- 



36o VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

gether with the Eastern Fathers of the Church. The 
zeal thus spnnging up rendered possible the imposition 
of a new language upon educated youth, which might 
have well seemed too much for human indolence. Our 
Universities accepted the addition ; and the teachers and 
pupils had to speak Latin, and read Greek.' 

The men of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries had 
their own follies, errors, and superstitions ; but their 
mode of estimating the worth of the classical tongues 
was plain common sense. Says Hegius, the Dutch 
scholar (master of Erasmus, head of the College of 
Deventer, 1438- 1468): 'If anyone wishes to under- 
stand grammar, rhetoric, mathematics, history, or Holy 
Scripture, let him read Greek. We owe everything to 
the Greeks.' Luther advocated the new learning, in his 
own vehement way : ' True though it be that the Gos- 
pel came and comes alone by the Holy Spirit, yet it 
came by means of the tongues, and thereby grew, and 
thereby must be preserved.' Melancthon regarded the 
languages solely as means to ends, and his scheme of 
education embraced all the departments of knowledge 
on their own account." Hieronymus Wolf, of Augs- 
burg, was emphatic on the same point : ' Happy were 
the Latins,' he says, ' who needed only to learn Greek, 
and that not by school-teaching, but by intercourse with 

' ' Thus in the Middle Ages Latin was made the groundwork of educa- 
tion ; not for the beauty of its classical literature, nor because the study of 
a dead language was the best mental gymnastic, or the only means of 
acquiring a masterly freedom in the use of living tongues, but because it 
was the language of educated men throughout Western Europe, employed 
for public business, literature, philosophy, and science, above all, in God's 
providence, essential to the unity, and therefore enforced by the authority, 
of the Western Church.' — (Mr, C. S, Parker, in Farrar's Essays on a 
Liberal Education, p. 7.) 



WORTH DECREASING. 36 1 

living Greeks. Happier still were the Greeks, who, so 
soon as they could read and write their mother tongue, 
might pass at once to the liberal arts and the pursuit of 
wisdom. For us, who must spend many years in learn- 
ing foreign languages, the entrance into the gates of 
Philosophy is much more difficult. For, to understand 
Latin and Greek is not learning itself, but the entrance- 
hall and antechamber of learning.' (Parker.) 

That the v^alue of a knowledge of the classics, on 
the ground of the information exclusively contained in 
Greek and Latin authors, should decrease steadily, was 
a necessary result of the independent research of the 
last three hundred years. The rate of decrease has 
been accelerated during the last century by the abun- 
dance of good translations from the classics. In this 
progressive decrease a point must be reached when the 
cost of acquiring the languages would be set against 
the residuum of valuable information still locked up in 
them, and when the balance would turn against their 
acquisition. In the meantime, however, other advan- 
tages have been put forward that are considered suffi- 
cient to make up for the loss of value brought about by 
the causes now mentioned. 

I. The Information still locked np in Greek and 
Latin Authors. 

This is the professional argument, but the case re- 
specting it is so very obvious that we can hardly be too 
brief in presenting the matter. 

That there is not a fact or principle in the whole 
compass of physical science, or in the arts and practice 



362 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

of life, that is not fully expressed in every civilized mo- 
dern language, will be universally allowed. There will 
not be quite the same consent as regards moral and 
metaphysical science ; it being contended that in Plato 
and in Aristotle, for example, there are treasures of 
thought that never can be separated from their original 
setting in the Greek language. Again, the ancient 
literatures are the exclusive depositories of the histo- 
rical and social facts of the ancient world ; but all this 
is eminently translatable, and has been abundantly re- 
produced in the modern tongues. A certain exception, 
however, is made here also, namely, that for the inner 
or subjective life of the Greeks and Romans, the best 
translations must still be at fault. 

As regards Greek philosophy, it may be safely said 
that its doctrinal positions and subtle distinctions are at 
this moment better understood through translators and 
commentators, writing in English, French, and German, 
than they could have been to Bentley, Porson, or Parr. 
The truth is that, in translating, a knowledge of the 
subject is at least co-essential with a knowledge of the 
language. When the Professor of Greek Literature, in 
Cosmo's Platonic Academy at Florence, lectured on 
Plato, the Latin Aristotelians asked with indignation 
how a philosopher could be expounded by one who was 
none himself 

That the inner life of the Greeks and Romans can- 
not be fully comprehended unless we know their own 
language, is a position that gives way under a close 
assault. The inner life must be understood from the 
outer life, and that can be represented in any language. 
Whatever sets well before us the usages, the modes of 



THE NEEDS OF THE TROFESSIONS. 363 

acting and thinking, the institutions, and the historical 
incidents of any people, will enable us to comprehend 
their inner life, as well as can be done in surveying them 
at a distance ; and all this is quite possible through the 
medium of translators and commentators. 

This seems enough as far as concerns the professions. 
In medicine, for example, it will not be contended that 
there is anything to be gained by classical scholarship. 
Hippocrates has been translated. Whatever Galen knew 
is known independently of his pages. But indeed, only 
a purely historical value can attach to any medical work 
of the ancient world. 

Again, the lawyer can obviously dispense with Greek. 
There may be a certain claim made for Latin in his case, 
in consequence of our position with reference to Roman 
Jurisprudence. But this too has been sufficiently repre- 
sented in English works to make the whole subject 
accessible to an English reader. The Latin terms that 
have to be retained as untranslatable by single words 
in English can be explained as they occur, without any- 
one requiring to master the entire Latin language. As 
to the power of reading Latin title-deeds, if one man 
in a business establishment possesses it, that is enough.' 

The plea for classics to the clergy has always been 
accounted self-evident and irresistible. Even here, how- 
ever, there are qualifying circumstances. It is the busi- 
ness of a clergymian to understand the Bible, which 
involves Plebrcw and Hellenistic Greek. Classical 
Greek and classical Greek authors are not necessary ; 

' Mr. Sidgwick says a lawyer 'ought to be acquainted with Latin 
grammar, and a certain portion of the Latin vocabulary.' The necessity 
for the grammar is not self-evident. 



364 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

while the utility of Latin extends only to the Latin 
Fathers, the scholastic theology, and the learned theo- 
logians of the Reformation, including Luther, Melanc- 
thon, Calvin, and Turretin. 

Now there is no book that has been so abundantly 
commented on as the Bible. Every light that scholar- 
ship can strike out has been made to shine through the 
vernacular tongues ; there is scarcely a text but can be 
understood by an English reader as the ablest scholars 
understand it ; and the study of the original languages 
must be prosecuted to a pitch of first-rate scholarship 
before anything can be gained in addition to what every- 
one may know without scholarship. 

Among the caprices of opinion on the present ques- 
tion may be ranked the very slight stress that is put 
upon the Hebrew language in the education of the 
clergy. The most exacting churches receive a candi- 
date for orders on a very easy Hebrew pass ; and it is 
never supposed that more than a small number of 
preachers in any church habitually consult the Hebrew 
Bible. Yet the Old Testament, containing as it does a 
large mass of sentiment and poetry, and referring to a 
state of society far removed from our own, is one of 
the books most difficult to exhibit in translation. Granted 
that, as respects the Old Testament, there may be an 
unexhausted, possibly an inexhaustible, suggestiveness 
in the knowledge of the original tongue, the fact remains 
that inattention to Hebrew is all but universal ; while, as 
respects the New Testament, a knowledge of the ori- 
ginal can scarcely add anything to the ample exegesis 
provided by theological scholars. Whitfield knew no 
Hebrew and little Greek. 



UNTRANSLATABLE EFFECTS. 365 

The Hellenistic Greek of the New Testament does 
not involve classical Greek authors. It might be taught 
like Hebrew in the Divinity schools, and entirely dis- 
connected from the literature of Pagan Greece. That 
these Pagan authors should be nursing fathers and 
nursing mothers to the Christian Church, is a standing 
wonder. That Christian youth, so carefully withheld from 
the language of sexual impurity, should be allowed such 
a liberal crop of wild oats as a course of classical read- 
ing supplies, is not less wonderful. 

The natural course as regards the clergy would be to 
encourage a small number of scholars to prosecute the 
study of the original languages of the Bible and all the 
allied learning, and to dispense with these languages as 
regards the mass of working clergy, who may turn their 
time to more profitable account. 

n. The Art Treasures of Greek and Roman Literature 
are inaccessible except through the languages. 

It must ever remain true that certain artistic effects 
of literary composition, and more especially poetry, arc 
bound up with the language of the writer, and cannot be 
imparted through another language. These very pecu- 
liar effects, however, are not the greatest in themselves, 
nor the most valuable for literary culture. The trans- 
latable peculiarities far transcend in value the untrans- 
latable; if it were not so, where should we be with our 
Bible.'' Melody is the most intractable quality; of 
this alone can little or no idea be imparted by transla- 
tions. Even the delicate associations with words can 
be expounded through our own language ; just as they 



S66 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

must be to the pupil who is studying the original. As 
regards all dead languages, much of this subtle essence 
must have vanished beyond recovery. Learning Greek 
does not put one in the same position to Homer and 
Sophocles, that learning German does to Goethe. All 
that a scholar can know he may find means of imparting 
to one that is not a scholar. 

The subtle incommunicable aroma of classical poetry 
is one of the luxuries of scholarship. The mass of stu- 
dents cannot reach it ; and it may be bought too dear. 
Moreover, the translatable virtue of the great poets 
is so great, that we may have many a rich feast, through 
translations alone: witness the enthusiasm for Pope's 
' Homer.' Horace is perhaps the most untranslatable 
poet of antiquity ; but the difficulty has been a stimulus 
to marvels of verbal dexterity in approaching the origi- 
nal; and he that is conversant with the translations now 
accessible to the English reader, cannot be far from the 
kingdom of heaven. 

HI. T/ie Classical Languages train the mind as 
nothing else does. 

This argument was not advanced in the days when 
the dead languages were useful in their character as 
languages ; either it was not felt in the sixteenth and 
seventeenth centuries, or it was unnecessary. That it is 
so much relied upon now, is tantamount to a surrender 
of the previous arguments, or at least suggests doubts as 
to their sufficiency. It has that amount of vagueness about 
it that would make a convenient shelter to a bad case. 
We must ask specifically what the training consists in. 



TRAINING OF GRAMMAR. 367 

For one thing, there is abundant employment given 
to the memory ; but the proper word for this is not 
' trained ' but ' expended.' A certain amount of the 
plastic force of the system is used up, and is therefore 
not available for other purposes. This is the cost of the 
operation, for which we have to show an equivalent in 
solid advantages. 

The faculties supposed to be trained are the higher 
faculties named Reason, Judgment, and Constructive or 
Inventive Power; and the exercises reckoned upon to 
give the training are conning grammar, and translating. 

The influence of Grammar can soon be told. To 
learn Grammar is, besides employing memory, to under- 
stand certain rules and to apply them as the cases arise, 
bearing in mind the exceptions when there are any. In- 
flexion is the easiest part. Latin nouns in a of the first 
declension are declined according to a type ; one ex- 
ample is given, as penna, and the pupil has to adhere to 
the type with femina and the rest. This represents the 
operation that is requisite whenever we can rise from 
particulars to general knowledge. ' A fine day,' ' a good 
road,' ' a boiling kettle,' * a loaf of bread,' are general 
ideas that are connected with practical injunctions, and 
whoever has to comply with these injuctions must under- 
stand the ideas and apply them as the occasion serves. 
Sometimes the notion is accessible to the weakest ca- 
pacity, sometimes it is the reverse; there are all degrees 
of difficulty up to the subtleties of professional lore, 
and the abstruseness of science or pliilosophy. The chief 
point is, that no branch can have a monopoly of the 
exercise of seeing the general in the particular; we can- 
not evade the necessity of the task. Whether one sub- 



368 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

ject is better, than another for our education in the matter 
depends upon whether it is possible to ease the labour 
of conceiving the more difficult abstractions by some- 
thing foreign to them ; whether mathematics or meta- 
physics can be made easier by toiling in some foreign 
lines of thought, as Latin Grammar, English Grammar, 
or Botany. It remains for anyone to show that such an 
influence exists; the arguments for the efficacy of gram- 
matical discipline do not reach the point; they assume 
that grammar has a monopoly of exercising the mind 
upon generalities, a point that has yet to be proved. 

Grammar as exemplified in the Latin and Greek 
languages is particularly devoid of subtlety, until we 
come to certain delicacies of syntax, as in the construc- 
tion of the tenses and moods of the Verb. The Parts 
of Speech are assumed without any definition ; they are 
recognized by the Inflexion test, and not by their func- 
tion in the sentence ; being in that respect very different 
from what is found in English Grammar. This has been 
made an argument for taking Latin before English — the 
easy grammar before the abstruse one. But the greater 
should imply the less. If, at the proper age, a pupil has 
mastered English Grammar, he has, in point of reasoning 
power, gone a step beyond Latin or Greek grammar, and 
should therefore be relieved from further labour for per- 
fecting his reasoning faculties in the grammatical field. 

It is in the exercise of translating from Latin or 
Greek into English, and vice versa, that the highest 
mental eflbrts are made, and the greatest strain put 
upon the faculties. Accordingly, it is to this exercise 
that the supposed training more especially applies. Now 
the mere conquering of difficulty is not special to any 



EXERCISE OF TRANSLATING. 369 

line of study ; we must further enquire what are the 
special difficulties to be overcome. The exercise of 
translating is a constructive effort : given a passage, a 
certain amount of grammatical and verbal knowledge, 
and the use of a dictionary, the pupil has to divine the 
meaning. There are three stages in the pupil's progress. 
In the first, his information and resources are unequal to 
the task, in which case the labour can do him very little 
good ; we are not the better for working at a point 
where we cannot make any progress. The second stage is 
where, by a certain measure of application, the pupil can 
succeed ; in which case, the operation is exhilarating and 
rewarding, and will be achieved. The highest stage 
is when the work can be performed with ease, and with- 
out any effort at all ; in which stage there is no difficulty 
to be overcome, and, therefore, very little effect accruing 
from the exercise. We are to assume, what is not always 
the case, that the student can be uniformly placed in the 
second situation, and are to enquire what there is in the 
particular work to train, discipline, or strengthen any of 
the higher faculties. 

The translation exercise is a tentative process; the 
meanings of the separate words have to be ascertained ; 
and out of several meanings of any one word, a selection 
has to be made such as to give sense along with the 
selected meanings of the others. Various combinations 
have to be tried ; baffled at one attempt, the student 
must make a second and a third, until at last he alights 
upon something that pays a due regard to every word 
and every peculiarity of grammar. A considerable 
amount of patient effort is demanded, and the long-con- 
tinued exercise of patient effort must do something to 



370 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS 

form habits of application. There is not, however, any- 
thing specific, unique, or unparalleled in the operation. 
All study whatsoever needs a similar exercise of patient 
application; and many kinds of study take precisely the 
same form, namely, assigning to words alternative mean- 
ings, until some one meaning is hit upon that resolves a 
difficulty. It is the application needed to solve riddles 
and conundrums. To make out the meaning of a scien- 
tific proposition, to find the rule that fits a given case, 
we must try and try again ; we reject one supposition 
after another as not consistent with some of the condi- 
tions of the problem, and remain in patient thought 
until others come to mind. 

It is in the interpretation of language that most 
difficulty is felt in keeping the pupil always in the me- 
dium position above described ; giving him work to do 
that shall neither exceed his powers, nor be too easy to 
call them into full exercise. With a passage that the 
dictionary does not give the means of rendering, the 
chance is that the attempt will not be seriously made, so 
that the mind is not put on the qui vive to drink in with 
avidity the master's explanation. It is, moreover, gene- 
rally admitted that the use of ' cribs ' does away with 
the good of the situation, as regards translating into 
English. Hence to secure any discipline at all, the 
operation of translating from English into Latin and 
Greek must be kept up, although in itself the least 
useful of any. 

The remark could not fail to be made that the opera- 
tion of translating is necessarily the same for ancient and 
for modern languages ; and, therefore, any modern lan- 
guage yields whatever discipline belongs to the situation. 



ADJUSTiMENT OF EXERCISES. 3/1 

It cannot avail much, in reply, to advert to the pecu- 
liarities of the Latin and Greek Grammars — the more 
highly inflexional character of the languages ; for each 
language has its specialities, and the business of the 
pupil simply is to attend to them. Every language 
must express the same facts of time and manner, and it 
cannot be very material, as far as regards mental discip- 
line, whether it is by inflexion or by auxiliaries. The fact 
of inflexion is sufficiently experienced in any case ; and 
how far it is carried is an inferior consideration. 

In Science, far more than in Languages, is it pos- 
sible to adjust the difficulties at each stage to the 
strength of the pupils, although, undoubtedly, to do this in 
any subject needs very good teaching. The Grammar of 
language being most nearly allied to science, can be best 
graduated in this way ; while, in the miscellaneous chances 
of translation, difficulties start up without any reference 
to order or the preparation of mind of the pupils, and 
the thing cannot be otherwise. 

The argument from Training is applied to certain 
special points, some of which will be considered under 
separate heads: such are the discipline in English and 
in Philology generally. Much stress is laid upon the re- 
mark that it is necessary to know more languages than 
our own to be delivered from certain snares of language; 
and the favourite example is the ambiguity of the verb 
* to be.' It so happens, however, that this very ambi- 
guity — predication and existence — was pointed out by 
Aristotle {Grotc's Aristotle, i. i8i).' 

' In an address to the Social Science Association in 1870, Lord Neaves 
recommended the study of Latin, Greek, and French, as the best means of 
cultivating precision of thinking. Now, whether or not the writers in 



372 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

In 'the interesting Rectorial Address of Professor 
Helmholtz, delivered this year to the University of Ber- 
Hn, the merits and demerits of the different academical 
institutions of Europe are freely indicated. With refer- 
ence to the English Universities, Oxford and Cambridge, 
the professor thinks his own countrymen should en- 
deavour to rival them in two things. * In the first place, 
they develop in a very high degree among their students, 
at the same time a lively sense of the beauties and the 
youthful freshness of antiquity, and a taste for precision 
and elegance of language ; this is seen in the fashion in 
which the students manage their mother tongue.' This 
must refer to the prominence still given to the classics in 
Oxford and Cambridge ; yet, in Germany, the classics are 
far more studied than in England, whether we consider 
the universal compulsion of the Gymnasia, or the special 
devotion manifested by a select number at the Univer- 
sities. Whatever good mere classical study can effect 
mu.st have reached its climax in Germany. As regards 
Oxford and Cambridge, and particularly Oxford, the 
best parts of the teaching seem to be those that depart 
most from the classical teaching, as, for example, the 
very great stress laid upon writing a good English essay. 
It is often said, that even in a professedly classical 
examination, a candidate's success is more due to his 
English Essay than to his acquaintance with Greek and 
Roman authors. 

After refuting a number of the alleged utilities of 
classical learning, Mr. Sidgwick still reserves certain dis- 

those languages are distinguished above all others for precision, it is a sin- 
:;ular fact, that these are the languages of the three peoples most remark- 
able for confining their attention to their own language. 



MATERIALS SUPPLIED. 373 

tinct advantages as belonging to the study of language. 
' In the first place, the materials here supplied to the 
student are ready to hand in inexhaustible abundance 
and diversity. Any page of any ancient author forms 
for the young student a string of problems sufiiciently 
complex and diverse to exercise his memory and judg- 
ment in a great variety of ways. Again, from the ex- 
clusion of the distractions of the external senses, from 
the simplicity and definiteness of the classification which 
the student has to apply, from the distinctness and ob- 
viousness of the points that he is called on to observ^e, it 
seems probable that this study calls forth (especially in 
young boys) a more concentrated exercise of the faculties 
it does develop than any other could easily do. If both 
the classical languages were to cease to be taught in 
early education, valuable machinery would, I think, be 
lost, for which it would be somewhat difficult to provide 
a perfect substitute.' {Essays on a Liberal Education, 

P- T33-) 

The materials here spoken of must mean the subject 
matter of the ancient authors, and not simply the lan- 
guages ; this, however, does not help the case, as the 
matter can be far better given in translations. The 
second reason — the exclusion of the senses, and the 
simplicity and definiteness of the classification to be 
applied — must refer to the language part; but it con- 
tains nothing special to the classical languages. More- 
over, as regards putting before the mind of a student 
distinct issues, and still more in adapting these to the 
state of his faculties and advancement, the learning 
of a language seems to me far inferior to most other 
exercises. 



374. VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 



IV. A Knowledge of the Classics is the best preparation 
for the Mother Tongue. 

This must have reference either (i) to the Vocables 
of the Language, or (2) to the Grammar and Structure of 
our composition. 

(i) As regards the vocables, we have to deal with 
the presence of Latin and Greek words in English. 
There being several thousands of our words obtained 
directly or indirectly from the Latin, it may be supposed 
that we should go direct to the fountain head, and learn 
the meanings in the parent language. But why may not 
we learn them exactly as they occur in the mother 
tongue } What economy is there in learning them in 
another place .'' The answer must be, with a qualification 
to be given presently, that the economy is all in favour 
of the first course. The reasons are plain. For one 
thing, if we learn the Latin words as they occur in Eng- 
lish, we confine ourselves to those that have been actually 
transferred to English ; whereas in learning Latin as a 
whole, we learn a great many words that have never been 
imported into our own language. The other reason is 
probably still stronger, namely, that the meanings of a 
great number of the words have greatly changed since 
their introduction into English ; hence, if we go back to 
the sources, we have a double task ; we first learn the 
meaning in the original, and next the change of mean- 
ing that followed the appropriation of the word by our- 
selves. The meaning of ' servant ' is easiest arrived at, 
by observing the use of the word among ourselves, and 
by neglecting its Latin origin ; if we are to be informed 



DERIVED ENGLISH VOCABLES. 375 

what * servus ' meant in Latin, we must learn further 
that such is not the present meaning; so that the direct- 
ing of our attention to the original, although a legitimate 
and interesting effort, does not pertain to the right use 
of our own language. 

Besides the vast body of Latin words entering into 
our language, as a co-equal factor with the Teutonic ele- 
ment, there is a sprinkling of special terms both Latin 
and Greek, adopted for technical and scientific uses. 
The appropriation of many of these is recent, and the 
process is still going on. Even with these, however, it 
is unsafe to refer to the original tongues for the meaning; 
we must still see what they mean as at present applied. 
A knowledge of Greek would be a fair clue to the 
meaning of ' thermometer,' and ' photometer,' and a few 
others ; but for the vast mass of these appropriations, it 
gives no clue whatever, or else it puts us on the wrong 
scent. ' Barometer,' as ' weight-measure,' would be most 
suitably applied to the common beam and scales; the 
real meaning would never be guessed. So, 'eudiometer'* 
cannot suggest its meaning to a Greek scholar; 'hippo- 
potamus ' is equally enigmatic. Of the ' ologies ' very 
few correspond to their derivation. We have such con- 
flicting names as ' astrology, astronomy ; ' ' phrenology, 
psychology ' ; ' geology, geography,' ' logic, logographer, 
logomachy ' ; ' theology, theogony ' ; ' aerostatics, pneu- 
matics.' ' Theology ' being the science of ' God,' ' phi- 
lology ' should be the science of ' friendship ' or the 
affections. It was remarked by Mr. Lowe that the 
word * aneurism,' to a Greek scholar, would be mis- 
leading ; he would not at once suppose that it is a 
derivative of the Greek verb avevpvvcd, ' to widen.' So 



376 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

with the word * methodist,' the knowledge of Greek is 
not a help but a snare. 

It is well understood to be a reason for borrowing 
foreign words, that they do not suggest any meaning but 
the one intended to be coupled with them. In obtaining 
words for new general ideas, our native terms contain 
misleading associations ; the great virtue of the names — 
'Chemistry,' 'Algebra,' 'rheumatism,' 'hydrated,' 'artery,' 
' colloid ' — is that we do not know what they originally 
meant ; any designation that we could invent in our own 
language for such vast sciences as Chemistry and Al- 
gebra would contain some narrow and inadequate con- 
ception which would be a perpetual stumbling-block to 
the learner. 

The only qualification to the principle of learning 
the meanings of words from present use solely, is, that 
the classical words in our language are mostly deriva- 
tives from a small number of roots ; so that a knowledge 
of the meanings of say a hundred roots assists in dis- 
covering the meanings of thousands of derivatives. Not 
but that we must still check every derivative by present 
use ; yet the memory is considerably assisted by a know- 
ledge of the primitive meaning as partly retained in the 
numerous compounds. We must observe the present em- 
ployment of the words — ' agent,' ' actor,' ' enact,' ' action,' 
' transaction ; ' nevertheless, when we are informed of the 
original sense of the root ' ago,' we are enabled thereby 
to obtain a speedier hold of the meanings of the de- 
rivations. So with the Greek roots,—' logos,' * nomos,' 
' metron,' ' zoon,' ' theos,' &c. This advantage, however, is 
attainable without entering upon a course of classical 
study. The roots actually employed in the language 



AN INTRODUCTION TO STYLE. 17^ 

are separated and presented apart, and their derivatives 
set forth ; and we are thus taught exactly that portion of 
the Latin and Greek vocabulary that serves the end in 
view. 

{2) The argument as applied to the Grammar or 
Syntax of our own language is equally at fault. The 
natural course in learning the grammatical order of 
English sentences is to study and practise English com- 
position. To be habituated to different sentence arrange- 
ments must be rather obstructive than otherwise. The 
reference to any other language can only be a matter of 
curiosity. If it ever happened that our language could 
borrow an effective arrangement of syntax from any 
other language, the borrowing should have taken place 
once for all, so that all succeeding ages might adopt it 
as a naturalized usage. 

In connection with this argument may be taken the 
frequent allegation that the classics are an introduction to 
general Literature, as affording the best models of taste 
and style ; in studying which we improve our composi- 
tions in our own language. There is here a host of loose 
assumptions. The excellence of the ancient writers is 
not uniform, and some assistance must be given to the 
pupil in discriminating the merits from the defects, a 
lesson that would be best begun in our own language. 
Moreover, the remark just made applies again. What- 
ever effects can be transferred by us to our own com- 
positions cannot remain to be transferred now. The 
vast series of classical scholars that have written in the 
modern languages ought long before this time to have 
embodied whatever beauties can be passed on from 
the ancient literatures. In modern European literature, 



378 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

there is a large school of imitators of the ancient authors, 
through whom we can derive at second hand all the 
characteristic effects possible to be reproduced in modern 
compositions. 

V. TJie Classical Languages are an introduction to 
Philology. 

This argument is one of the recently discovered 
makeweights on the side of classical teaching. The 
science of Philology is a new science ; and before launch- 
ing it into the present controversy, its claims as a branch 
of school or college education should be established on 
independent grounds. Having its ultimate roots in the 
human mind, like a great many other sciences, it is a 
recondite branch of the vast subject of Sociology, or 
Society, viewed both as structure and as history. Its 
immediate sources are the existing languages of man- 
kind, which are made the subject of comparative study, 
with a view to trace community as well as diversity of 
structure (whence springs Universal Grammar), and also 
historical connection and derivation. Such a subject 
may enter into the curriculum of the higher education, 
but not at a very early stage ; it must allow priority to 
the more fundamental sciences. 

Assuming that the subject is to be received among 
school and college subjects, the bearing of the classical 
languages is somewhat insignificant. Latin and Greek, 
as usually taught, are both defective and redundant in 
their bearing on General Philology. They are only two 
languages out of a multitude that have to be more 
or less minutely compared. The examples taken from 
other languages, Sanscrit for example, are of as great 



THE ARGUMENTS INCONCLUSIVE. 379 

importance as those from Greek and Latin , and we 
cannot be expected to make an equal study of all these 
languages. In point of fact, we must be taught Philo- 
logy by examples cited from many languages, which we 
do not pay any further attention to; and the Greek and 
Latin examples may be obtained in the same partial 
way. The full knowledge of the Greek and Latin 
authors does not avail us for this subject' 

These are the leading arguments in favour of the 
present system of classical study. The supposition is 
that by their cumulative effect they justify the continu- 
ance of the system after the original occasion of its in- 
troduction has ceased. On reviewing the tenor of these 
arguments, however, we find that, after all, they do not 
support the real contention; which is, that Latin and 
Greek, and they alone, as an undivided couple, shall 
continue to form the staple of our higher education. 
Several of the arguments apply equally to modern lan- 
guages, and others would be met by the retention of 
Latin, by itself 

The case is not complete until we view the arguments 
on the other side. 



' Mr. Sidgvvick has some admirable remarks on this point in his Essay 
already referred to (p. 94). Mr. A. H. Sayce expresses himself strongly 
as to the small linguistic value of the two classical tongues. ' For purely 
philological purposes they are of less interest than many a savage jargon, 
the name of which is almost imknown, and certainly than those spoken 
languages of modern Europe whose life and growth can be watched like 
that of the living organism, and whose phrenology can be studied at first 
hand.' 'The greater the literary perfection of a langiuige, the less is its 
importance to the mere glottologist' (Auiture, November 23, 1876). 



380 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

I. The Cost. 

The amount of time consumed in classical teaching 
during the best years of youth is well known to be very 
great, although not everywhere the sam.e. In most clas- 
sical schools in this country more than half the time of the 
pupils is occupied with Latin and Greek for a number of 
years ; and not long ago, nearly the whole time was taken 
up in many of our seminaries. In Germany, at the 
Gymnasia, six hours a week are given to Latin, for four 
years, and seven hours a week for other two years (age 
from twelve to eighteen) : seven hours a week are given 
to Greek, for two years, and six hours a week for other 
two years (age from fourteen to eighteen). At the Uni- 
versity, it is optional to pursue Classics. 

The question, therefore, arises — Are the benefits com- 
mensurate with this enormous expenditure of time and 
strength } We might grant that a small portion of time 
— two or three hours a week, for one or two years— 
might possibly be repaid by the advantages; but we 
are utterly unable to concede the equivalence of the 
results to the actual outlay. 

In the more recent system of teaching, under which 
some attention is given to the history and the institutions 
of Greece and Rome, a certain amount of valuable 
knowledge is intermixed with the useless parts of the 
teaching ; and for this a small figure must be entered 
on the credit side. But all such knowledge could be 
imparted in a mere fraction of the time given to the 
languages. 

The classical system has been the practical exclu- 
sion of all other studies from the secondary or grammar 



EXCESSIVE OCCUPATION OF TIME. 38 1 

schools. For a long time, the only subject tolerated in 
addition was a very elementary portion of Mathematics 
— Euclid and a little Algebra. The pressure of opinion 
has compelled the introduction of new branches — as 
English, Modern Languages, and Physical Sciences; but 
either these are little more than a formality, or the pupils 
are subjected to a crushing burden of distracting studies. 
To be in school five hours a day, with two or three 
hours for home tasks, is too great a strain on youths be- 
tween ten and sixteen. Moreover, in the evening pre- 
parations, it IS found that the classical lessons absorb the 
greater part of the attention.' 

The argument from disproportionate cost is some- 
times met by alleging the defectiveness of the usual 
methods of teaching the languages; and many short 
and easy methods have been propounded. Experience 
has not yet shown any means of seriously reducing 
labour; and the thing is not likely. A vast acquisition 
is unavoidably involved in any cultivated language. The 
Grammar and the Vocabulary cannot be committed to 
memory without a large expenditure of strength ; and 
the authors to be read have each their special peculiarities 
to be mastered. The observance of the methods of good 
teaching will make a considerable and important dif- 

' We are rapidly approaching a compromise between the new and the 
old systems, on the basis of omitting one of the two classical tongues, that 
is, Greek ; the Latin alone to continue as an imperative branch of the cur- 
riculum of higher education. A considerable relief will no doubt be 
experienced by throwing Greek into option ; but the radical evil of our 
Grammar School system will remain. The two best hours of the day for 
several years will still be given to a barren occupation ; and the thorough 
reconstruction of the scheme of liberal studies will be indefinitely post- 
poned. 

18 



382 VALUE .OF THE CLASSICS. 

ference, but will not dispense with the demand of two or 
three hours a day for several years to attain a moderate 
proficiency in Latin and Greek. Moreover, the system 
as practised, throws away the best known device for 
accelerating lingual study; namely, allowing a familiarity 
with the subject matter of the several authors to be 
attained in advance. The pupils in the Latin and Greek 
classes have not as yet been initiated into any important 
subject; and what renders the study tolerable is the 
large devotion of time to the one theme of universal 
interest — personal narrative. 



IL TJie mixture of conflicting studies impedes the course 
of the learner. 

On the supposition that the classical languages are 
taught, not in their simple character as languages, but 
with a view to logical training, training in English, 
literary culture, general philology, — the carrying out of 
so many applications at one time, and in one connection, 
is fatal to progress in any. Although the languages 
may never actually be used, the linguistic difficulties of 
the acquisition must be encountered' all the same ; and 
the attention of the pupil must be engrossed in the first 
instance with overcoming these difficulties. It is, there- 
fore, an obvious mistake in teaching method to awaken 
the mind to other topics and considerations, while the 
first point has not been reached. I have everywhere 
maintained as a first principle of the economy or conduct 
of the Understanding, that separate subjects should be 
made separate lessons. This is not easy when two 
studies are embodied in the same composition, as Ian- 



EVILS OF DIVIDED ATTENTION. 383 

guage and meaning; in that case the separation can be 
effected only by keeping one of the two in the back- 
ground throughout each lesson. 

The least questionable effect of classical study (al- 
though one equally arising from modern languages) is 
the exercise of composing in our own language through 
translation. Still, it is but a divided attention that we 
can give to the exercise. We are under the strain of 
divining the meaning of the original, and cannot give 
much thought to the best mode of rendering it in our 
own language. This is necessarily a varying position. 
There may be occasions when the sense of the original 
is got without trouble, and when we are free to apply 
ourselves to the expression — in English, or whatever lan- 
guage we are using. But this is all a matter of chance ; 
and such desultory fits of consideration are not the way 
to make progress in a vast study. Moreover, the master 
is a man chosen because he is a proficient in classics, not 
because he has any special or distinguishing acquaintance 
with the modern tongue. Now it must seem incontestable 
that the. only way to overtake an extensive and difficult 
department of information and training, is to proceed 
methodically, and with exclusive devotion of mind at 
stated times, under the guidance of an expert in the de- 
partment. All experience shows that only very inferior 
English composition is the result of translating from 
Latin or Greek into English. There is necessarily a good 
deal of straining to make the English fit the original ; 
while the greater number of the most useful forms of the 
language are never brought into requisition at all. 

There is something plausible in the supposition of 
cultivating all the faculties at one stroke, as if an exer- 



384 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

cise could be invented that could teach spelling, cooking, 
and dancing, simultaneously. Because the same piece of 
composition involves grammar, rhetoric, scientific infor- 
mation and logical method, we are not to infer that it 
should be the text for all these lessons at one time. It 
is not merely that the way to carry the mind forward in 
the several departments is, to keep it continuously fixed 
on each for a certain duration ; equally pertinent is the 
fact that, although every passage occurring in a lesson 
must needs embody language, rhetoric, and information, 
the same passage does not equally suit for all the appli- 
cations. 

It may be true that classical education is many-sided ; 
but what if it is defective on each side ? ' The very fact 
that the same instrument is made to serve various educa- 
tional purposes, which seems at first sight a very plausible 
argument in its favour, is really, for the majority of boys, 
a serious disadvantage.' (Sidgwick, tit sttpra, p. 127.) 

The study of fine Literary effects cannot be carried on 
in connection with Latin and Greek, not only because of 
the distraction of the mind with other things, but be- 
cause of the random, uncertain, unconsecutive way that 
the examples are brought forward. Even if there were 
no order whatever in the parts of a subject, still the 
irregular presentation of these would be adverse to a 
cumulative impression. The same would apply to Ge- 
neral Philology, if that were regarded as one of the uses 
of classical study. 

The conclusion on the whole is, that the teaching of 
language is most rationally conducted when it stands on 
the original footing of the classical languages in the 
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, i.e. when the language 



LITERATURE SHOULD BE INTERESTING. 385 

itself, as a means of interpretation and communication, 
is the fact, and the whole fact. The attention of the 
pupils could then be kept to the one point of mastering 
grammar and vocables: the authors studied would be 
studied with this sole aim. The language teacher 
is not an interpreter and expounder of history, poetry, 
oratory and philosophy, but an instrument for enabling 
the pupils to extract these from their original sources 
in some foreign tongue. 

III. The Study is devoid of interest. 

This may not be universally admitted, but it is suf- 
ficiently attested for the purposes of the present argu- 
ment. There is, first, the dryness inseparable from the 
learning of a language, especially at the commencement. 
There is, next, the circumstance that the literary interest 
in the authors is not felt, for want of due preparation. 
It is a fact that, but for the never-failing resource of 
sensation narrative, by which we arouse the dormant 
intellect of the child in the second standard, the reading 
of classical authors would be intolerable at the early age 
when they are entered upon. 

It is the nature of science to be more or less dry; 
until its commanding power is felt the path of the 
learner is thorny. But literature is nothing, if not 
interesting. There should be even in a course of Belles- 
Lettres, a certain amount of science, in the shape of 
generalities and technicalities; but these are soon passed, 
and the mind is free to expatiate in the rich pastures ot 
the literary domain. Literature, instead of being the dis- 
mal part of the school exercises, should be the alternative 



386 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

and relief from Mathematics and the elements of Science 
generally. This cannot be, if the pupils are thrust 
prematurely upon a foreign literature while mastering 
several new vocabularies. It is now plain to the best 
educationists, that our own literature must be the first 
to awaken literary interest, and prepare the way for 
universal literature. 

IV. TJie study panders too much to mithority in matters 
of opinion. 

The classical student is unduly impressed with the 
views promulgated by the Greek and Roman authors, 
from the very length of time that he is occupied with 
them. The authority of Aristotle, once paramount in 
the world of thought, has long ceased to be infallible, 
but the reference to his supposed opinions is still out 
of proportion to any value that can now belong to them. 
Any views of his as to the best form of government, as 
to happiness and duty, are interesting as information, 
but useless as practice. 

A curious and expressive incident occurred at a 
recent meeting of the British Association. Sir William 
Thomson, in the course of a paper read before his section, 
desired his hearers, when they went to their homes, to 
draw their pens through a certain paper of his in their 
copies of the * Proceedings of the Royal Society.' It 
would be well if the example were imitated by every 
philosopher that has happened to change any of his 
opinions. Even if we accorded to Aristotle a command- 
ing sagacity in Ethics and in Politics, we should like to 
have his latest decisions as to the value of what we now 
possess as his writings. 



OPINIONS OF SIDGWICK AND ELI.IS. 387 

Note on recent views of the Classical question. 

Mr. Henry Sid^ick. — The article that has been repeatedly 
referred to concludes with the following recommendations as to 
the subjects suitable for Higher School education. 

' I think that a course of instruction in our own language 
and literature, and a course of instruction in natural science, 
ought to form recognised and substantive parts of our school 
system.' ' I think also that more stress ought to be laid on the 
study of French.' To make room for these additions, the ob- 
vious remedy is ' to exclude Greek from the curriculum, at least 
in its earlier stage.' ' It is supposed that there is a saving of 
time in beginning the study of Greek early. I am inclined to 
think that very much the reverse is the case, and that, if several 
languages have to be learnt, much time is gained by untying the 
faggot and breaking them separately. There are two classes for 
whom the present system of education is more or less natural, 
— the clergy, and persons with a literary bias and the prospect 
of sufficient leisure to indulge it amply. Boys with such pros- 
pects, and a previous training of the kind I advocate, would in 
the average feel, as they approached the last stage of their 
school life, an interest in Greek strong enough to make them 
take to it very rapidly.' 'The advantage that young children 
have over young men in catching a spoken language, has led 
some to infer that they have an equal superiority in learning to 
read a language that they do not hear spoken ; an inference 
which, I think, is contrary to experience.' 

Mr. Alexander J. Ellis. — In a Lecture, on the Acquisition 
of Languages, delivered before the College of Preceptors, Mr. 
EUis criticizes severely the English School system. He remarks 
on the absurdity of talking of the humanizing effect of the Latin 
and Greek languages, of the grand literatures they contain, and 
so on — when the one condition is wanting, namely, ' that those 
who acquire them should be able to use them.' ' The tree of 
language is indeed vast in our schools ; but it is, after all, but 



388 VALUE OF THE CLASSICS. 

an overgrown weed. Good masters learn to hang many a 
garland on its unsightly knots by the way, and to bend many of 
its branches into unnatural but more or less useful directions.' 
' These results are not legitimate deductions from teaching 
languages.' 

' Every speaker is bound to know his own language first, 
without relation to other languages.' 'Lessons in language 
should be supplemented with lessons on things. We must 
have something to speak and write about besides language 
itself.' After English, should come German and French. 
' Hitherto, German and French have been regarded as the 
accomplishments, and Latin and Greek as the staple, of literary 
education. It is time to reverse the terms. Latin and Greek 
have drifted into being accomplishments.' ' If a boy is " up " 
in English at ten ; knows his German, to the extent indicated 
at twelve, and his French at fourteen ; he will be a better Latin 
scholar at sixteen, and Greek scholar at eighteen, than the 
majority of those who leave our public schools.' ' Literature 
is one of the very last things to be attacked. To appreciate it, 
requires much education, often much experience of life, and 
great familiarity with the language, and often with social habits 
and customs.' 

Mr. Matthew Arnold. — At the close of his Report to * The 
Schools' Inquiry Commission' on the Middle Schools of Ger- 
many, Mr. Arnold adverts to the conflict of the modern spirit 
with the old exclusive classical system, and indicates what he con- 
siders the true solution. ' The ideal of a general, liberal training 
is, to carry us to a knowledge of ourselves and the world. We are 
called to this knowledge by special aptitudes which are born 
with us : the grand thing in teaching is to have faith that some 
aptitudes for this everyone has. This one's special aptitudes 
are for knowing men — the study of the humanities; that one's 
special aptitudes are for knowing the world — the study of nature. 
The circle of knowledge comprehends both, and we should all 
have some notion, at any rate, of the whole circle of knowledge. 



MATTHEW ARNOLD'S VIEWS. 389 

The rejection of the humanities by the realists, the rejection of 
the study of nature by the humanists, are aUke ignorant. He 
whose aptitudes carry him to the study of nature should have 
some notion of the humanities; he whose aptitudes carry him 
to the humanities should have some notion of the phenomena 
and laws of nature. Evidently, therefore, the beginnings of a 
liberal culture should be the same for both. The mother tongue, 
the elements of Latin and of the chief modern languages, the 
elements of history, of arithmetic and geometry, of geography, 
and of the knowledge of nature, should be the studies of the 
lower classes in all secondary schools, and should be the same 
for all boys at this stage. So far, therefore, there is no reason 
for a division of schools. But then comes a bifurcation, ac- 
cording to the boy's aptitudes and aims. Either the study of 
the humanities or the study of nature is henceforth to be the 
predominating part of his instruction.' 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE RENOVATED CURRICULUM. 

On the supposition that Languages are in no sense the 
main part of Education, but only helps or adjuncts under 
definite circumstances, the inference seems to be, that 
they should not, as at present, occupy a central or lead- 
ing position, but stand apart as side subjects available 
to those that require them. 

I conceive that the curriculum of Secondary or 
Higher Education should, from first to last, have for its 
staple the various branches of knowledge culture, in- 
cluding our own language. The principal part of each 
day should be devoted to these subjects; while there 
should be a certain amount of spare time to devote to 
languages and other branches that are not required of 
all, but may be suitable to the circumstances of indi- 
viduals. 

The essentials of a curriculum of the Higher Educa- 
tion may be summed up under three heads: — 

I. Science, including the Primary Sciences, as 
already set forth ; some one or more of the Natural 
History Sciences — Mineralogy, Botany, Zoology, Geo- 
logy ; to which may be added Geography. To what ex- 
tent this vast course should enter into general education 



SCOPE OF THE HUMANITIES. 39 1 

has already been sufficiently discussed. Our present pur- 
pose does not require the nice adjustment of details. 

II. A course of the Humanities, under which I 
include (i) History, and the various branches of Social 
Science that can be conveniently embraced in a metho- 
dical course. Mere narrative History would be merged 
in the Science of Government, and of Social Institutions, 
to which could be added Political Economy, and, if 
thought fit, an outline of Jurisprudence or Law. This 
would put in the proper place, and in the most advan- 
tageous order of study, one large department recently 
incorporated with the teaching of the classical languages, 
by way of redeeming their infertility. 

(2) Under the Humanities might next be included 
a view, more or less full, of Universal Literature. Pre- 
supposing those explanations of the Literary Qualities 
and Arts of Style that should be associated, in the first 
instance, with our own language, and also some familiarity 
with cur own Literature, we could proceed to survey the 
course and development of the Literature of the World 
through its principal streams, including of necessity the 
Greek and Roman Classics. It is needless to add that 
this should be done without demanding a study of the 
original languages. How far a Philosophy of Literature 
should penetrate the survey I do not at present enquire. 
Materials already exist in abundance for such a course. 
It is the beau-ideal of Rhetoric and Belles- Lettres as 
conceived by the chief modern authorities in the depart- 
ment, as for example, Campbell and Blair in last century. 
Only, I should propose that the elements of Rhetoric, in 
connection with our own Literature, should lead the \Tay. 

Such a course would carry out, with effect and 



392 THE RENOVATED CURRICULUM. 

thoroughness, what is very imperfectly attempted in 
conjunction with the present classical teaching. A toler- 
ably complete survey of the chief authors of Greece and 
Rome, with studies upon select portions of the most 
important, could be achieved in the first instance; and 
it might be possible to include also a profitable ac- 
quaintance with the great modern literatures. 

III. English Composition and Literature.— 
This might either pervade the entire curriculum, or be 
concentrated in the earlier portions, the General Litera- 
ture being deferred. What it comprises, according to 
my view, has been sufficiently stated. The survey of 
Universal Literature, would operate beneficially upon 
the comprehension of our own. 

These three departments appear to me to have the 
best claims to be called a Liberal Education. The de- 
viation from the received views is more in form than 
in substance. I would not call Science alone a Liberal 
Education, although a course that implied a fair know- 
ledge of the Primary Sciences, a certain amount of 
Natural Science, and a wide grasp of Sociology, would 
be no mean equipment for the battle of life, I think, 
however, that the materials of Sociology might be 
accumulating all through the curriculum, and might 
serve to alleviate the severity of the strictly scientific 
course. 

I think, moreover, that a Liberal Education would 
not be generally considered complete without Literature, 
although people must needs differ as to the amount. I 
hold that the three departments stated are sufficiently 
comprehensive for all the purposes of a general educa- 



PROPER PLACE OF LANGUAGES, 393 

tion, and that no other should be exacted as a condi- 
tion of the University Degree — the received mode of 
stamping an educated man. 

Such a course should be so conducted as to leave a 
portion of time and strength for additional subjects. An 
average of two to three hours a day might be occupied 
with the continuous teaching in the three departments. 
Assuming a six years' curriculum— covering the Second- 
ary School and the University courses — it is easy to see 
that a large amount of thorough instruction might be im- 
parted in those limits; leaving perhaps one third of the 
pupils' available time, for other things. 

Of the extra, or additional subjects, Languages would 
have the first claim. These, however, should not be 
under any authoritative prescription ; they should never 
enter into any examinations for testing general acquire- 
ments. Every person going through such a course as 
we have supposed, would be urged and advised to take 
up at least one foreign language, giving the preference 
to a modern language: the intention being to learn 
it up to the point of use as a language. How many 
languages any given person should study must depend 
upon circumstances. The labour of a new language 
is not to be encountered without a distinct reason. It 
is never too late to learn any language that we discover 
ourselves to be in want of. If we need it for information 
on a particular subject, we can learn it up to that point 
and no farther. 

An hour every day may be available at any part of 
the course for a new language, whether modern or 
ancient. If either Latin or Greek is taken up, it would 
be learnt strictly by the grammar and the dictionary; 



394 'fHE RENOVATED CURRICULUM. 

just as Dutch or Gaelic would be learnt : we should not 
diverge into literary matters, or the criticism of beauties; 
all which would be reduced to a small compass, after a 
survey of the literature, and a familiarity with good 
translations. 

There would be no need to begin the study of lan- 
guage early, and little advantage: and it would be 
undesirable to take two languages together. There are 
other matters to divide the extra hours with languages. 
I need only mention Elocution as appertaining to every 
one. For more special tastes would be provided Music 
and Drawing. There would also be a variety of special 
courses on branches of knowledge not embraced in the 
regular curriculum. In a well-provided institution, there 
might be classes devoted to Anglo-Saxon, General Phi- 
lology, select portions of History, and so on. I am not 
specially adverting to the topics preparatory to the 
several professions. 

The reasons for the change now proposed have been 
given in substance already. They are contained in the 
general argument as to the position of languages in 
general, and of classics in particular. Besides the consi- 
deration that languages should be learnt only when meant 
to be used as languages, I have all along put great stress 
on the wastefulness of carrying on several incongruous 
lessons at one time. From the first statement of the 
Laws of Agreement onwards, I have contended for the 
necessity of like going with like in the same exercise. 

I have also urged the economy of learning language 
after laying up a good stock of ideas. Setting aside 
the pronunciation of a foreign language, the acquisition 



EXCESSIVE SPECIALISING OF STUDIES. 395 

of the grammar and the vocabulary is easier late than 
early ; any decay in the plastic force of memory is more 
than made up by the other advantages. 

The scheme thus set forth appears the only means of 
arresting the tendency inevitable at the present day to 
excessive specializing of the studies constituting a liberal 
education. It is the supposed necessity of retaining 
dead languages and of adopting foreign living languages 
as an integral part of education, that leads to options so 
very wide as to leave out science almost entirely from 
one course, and literature almost entirely from another. 
A mere language course, containing as it does irregu- 
lar smatterings of history and of literature, is not an 
adequate cultivation of the human faculties; it is de- 
fective both on the side of training and on the side of 
knowledge imparted. On the other hand, I regard it as 
equally undesirable to limit the course of study to science, 
still less to physical science (excluding Logic and Psy- 
chology), least of all to Mathematics and Physics. 

The more obvious objections to the proposed curri- 
culum may be glanced at. 

First. It will be called by the dreaded name — Revo- 
lution. Yet the revolutionary element is not very great 
after all. It consists only in putting languages in the 
second place, reserving the first to the subject-matter. 
The scheme pays great regard to the element of the 
antique, as represented by Greece and Rome, and would 
render the acquaintance with the history and literatures 
of both countries, more general and more thorough than 
at present. A day may come when this amount of 
attention will be thought too much. 



39^ THE RENOVATED CURRICULUM. 

Second. Classics will be ruined. To this there are 
several answers. According as people believe the classical 
languages to be useful, they will keep them up to that 
extent and no more. But classics will never cease, so 
long as the existing endowments continue. A small 
number of persons will always be encouraged to master 
those languages thoroughly, so as to maintain the study 
of the history and literature of the ancient world. The 
teachers of ancient literature would be expected to know 
the originals; and they alone would constitute a con- 
siderable body. 

Third. Some minds are incapable of science, and 
more especially of Mathematics, the foundation of the 
whole. In answer to this we may freely concede, that 
many minds find abstract notions exceedingly distasteful 
and, as a consequence, difficult. Men of admitted ability 
have been found incapable of mastering Euclid, while at 
home in languages, and in literature. In this case, how- 
ever, the disproportionate pursuit of the one department 
has been the real obstacle. The experience of existing 
Universities shows that four men out of five can pass for 
a degree, containing elementary Mathematics. Perhaps 
their comprehension of the subject is not great or exact ; 
but if their minds were more disengaged, they could 
understand it sufficiently to go on with a course of the 
experimental and other sciences, in which the interest 
would be more universal. 

Although there are men of good judgment or prac- 
tical sense, who have never had any abstract teaching, 
and might seem incapable of it, yet the highest order of 
judgment combines both abstract notions with concrete 



SCIENCE ESSENTIAL. 397 

experience; and in a thoroughly liberal education, ab- 
stract science ought not to be dispensed with. 

It may be remarked finally that any man possessing 
a thoroughly grammatical knowledge of several languages 
is not wanting in aptitude for abstract science ; grammar 
does not amount to a scientific discipline, but it attests 
the capability of undergoing such a discipline.* 

' The curriculum now roughly sketched would harmonize the course of 
primary and secondar)' education, and do away with the troublesome bifur- 
cation of the Ancient and the Modern sides, which at present complicates 
and embarrasses our higher schools and colleges. The work of the primary 
school is necessarily on the lines here laid down, and could be made still 
more profitable by a closer adherence to the same plan. There would be 
a common ground for all the professions to meet. 



CHAPTER XII. 

MORAL EDUCATION. 

The difficulties of moral teaching exceed in every way 
the difficulties of intellectual teaching. The method of 
proceeding is hampered by so many conditions, that it 
barely admits of precise demonstration or statement. 

Morality is in the situation of the mother tongue : 
it does not depend solely on the school teacher, or on 
any one source ; it is imbibed from innumerable sources ; 
and the school does not even rank as one of the chief. 
There are unquestionably inborn tendencies, more or less 
powerful, to make men prudent, and just, and generous, 
when once they are placed in the suitable circumstances. 
But experience shows that these native forces are not 
fully adequate to the desired end ; and society super- 
adds a special discipline to make up for the defects. 
The greater part of this discipline, however, is not 
teaching, in the common meaning of the word, but 
the public dispensation of punishment and reward. 

As man is not a solitary animal, but spends his whole 
life in the society of fellow-beings, there grows up in 
the individual bosom a set of social sentiments or feel- 
ings of a very mixed character ; the dependence of 
each one on the rest involves both the lowest and the 



FIRST MORAL IMPRESSIONS. 399 

highest of our gratifications. We have to think of others 
in everything that we do : our personal wishes are biassed 
by what those about us wish ; our conduct is shaped by 
our various social relationships. 

What we have to do to others, and what we have to 
expect from others, are at first learnt by personal ex- 
perience. We are introduced to society in a state of 
total dependence, we follow our own wills only in so 
far as we are allowed ; and we have to accommodate 
ourselves to our circumstances, to do and to refrain from 
doing, at the dictation of superior power. This habitua- 
tion to obedience, in prescribed lines, is our first moral 
education, and represents by far the greatest part of 
that education in its whole compass. By acting and re- 
acting on the numerous individuals that we encounter 
in various social relationships, we obtain both the know- 
ledge of duty, and the motive to do it. 

Besides our own personal contact with parents, 
masters, superiors, friends, and the influence exercised 
by those on our own conduct, we are witnesses to the 
demeanour of our fellows in their dependence upon the 
surrounding society. We see the obstruction offered to 
their free-will, the pain inflicted on transgression, the 
approval of obedience and compliance. In short, we 
are taught by innumerable examples what society wills 
that each person should do, and what are the conse- 
quences of doing and of not doing. All these examples 
we take to heart, and they augment the influence of 
society in our moral education. 

This primary and personal source of moral educa- 
tion is analogous to the education in physical laws by 
personal experience of their working for good and for 



400 MORAL EDUCATION. 

evil. We learn to subject our conduct to the influences 
of the natural world — to avoid stumbling, running 
against posts, scalding ourselves, and drowning ; to court 
all pleasant things — sunshine, warmth, sweet tastes, 
nourishment. We are soon habituated to a set conduct 
in accordance with these physical laws, and that without 
anybody's teaching ; although we ultimately derive great 
benefit from the fruits of other people's experience. 

It is quite conceivable that our personal intercourse 
with human beings in varied relationships might be of 
itself sufficient to give us all the moral habits necessary to 
a good citizen ; just as the children in a cultivated family 
acquire language and breeding, of the highest degree of 
polish, by mere unavoidable imitation. Indeed, if we 
survey the history of the human race, in the vast majo- 
rity of situations no other education is given. The 
child learns to avoid blows, to conciliate favour, by its 
own encounters with parents, companions, superiors, and 
equals ; extended by observation of others doing the 
same. No other moral lessons are read in the usages 
of the uncivilised tribes. The situation is even repro- 
duced among ourselves. The virtues of the soldier are 
formed almost exclusively by the operation of the army 
penal code. He knows by his own experience and by 
the observations of others, the penalty of disobedience ; 
he avoids that penalty first by a special volition, and 
subsequently by acquired bent or habit. 

After clearly understanding that the mutual encounter 
of human beings socially related is the one never-failing 
source of social good conduct, in other words, morality 
(in its beginning and its type), we can consider what are 
the defects or shortcomings of this method, and by what 



THE SCHOOLMASTER AS A DISCIPLINARIAN. 4OI 

Other methods these are found to be best overcome. In 
such subsidiary devices consists what is usually styled 
moral teaching, which is the corrective of the hard 
matter-of-fact teaching of good and evil consequences, 
just as the science and traditions of the race improve 
upon the individual experience of the physical laws. 

Whatever may be the supplementary modes of 
enforcing morality, we may assume that they are in 
keeping with the primitive, the sure and perennial mode, 
of trial and error, or actual experience of the human 
relations. The rude and painful shock of collision with 
the wills of others may be anticipated and thrust aside 
in such a way that the moral may be still impressed ; or 
when actually occurring, it may be so improved upon by 
a well- managed commentary, as to be avoided in the 
future. But in either case, the motive power is what 
happens in real life ; the evil and the good that we 
experience at the hands of others are the forces for 
keeping us in the orbit of duty. 

The schoolmaster, in common with all persons exer- 
cising control for a particular purpose, is a moral teacher 
or disciplinarian ; contributing his part to impress good 
and evil consequences in connection with conduct. For 
his own ends, he has to regulate the actions of his 
pupils, to approve and disapprove of what they do as 
social beings related to one another and to himself. He 
enforces and cultivates obedience, punctuality, truthful- 
ness, fair dealing, courteous and considerate behaviour, 
and whatever else belongs to the working of the school. 
Whoever is able to maintain the order and discipline 
necessary to merely intellectual or knowledge teaching, 
will leave upon the minds of his pupils genuine moral 



402 MORAL EDUCATION. 

impressions, without even proposing that as an end. If 
the teacher has the consummation of tact that makes 
the pupils to any degree in love with the work, so as 
to make them submit with cheerful and willing minds 
to all the needful restraints, and to render them on the 
whole well-disposed to himself and to each other, he is 
a moral instructor of a high order, whether he means it 
or not. 

This, however, is not all that is expected of the 
ordinary teacher — at least in the primary schools. He 
(or she) is expected to give express lessons of a moral 
kind, whether with, or apart from, religious lessons ; and 
these lessons are something over and above what grows 
out of the work of teaching knowledge elements. The 
teacher is assumed to be something more than one of 
our fellow-beings echoing approbation and disapproba- 
tion, and swelling the chorus of voices that engrain right 
dispositions on the youthful mind. As an intellectual 
or scientific expositor, probably also as a persuasive mo- 
nitor, he concentrates and methodizes the scattered and 
random moral impressions of every-day life, so that ' a 
day in his courts is better than a thousand ' in the 
general world. 

The additional moral teaching by separate lessons, 
having no reference to the actual incidents of the school, 
must operate by referring to ideal incidents and situa- 
tions, chosen for their illustrative character. The recol- 
lection of actual facts, and the imagination of depicted 
facts, are appealed to, and their moral lesson duly ex- 
pressed. This exercise has its advantages and its dis- 
advantages. 

The advantages resemble the superiority of experi- 



CUMULATIVE EXAMPLES OF THE VIRTUES. 403 

mcnt to observation in science. Cases in point are 
contrived to show the evils of the various vices, and the 
good consequences of the virtues. A cumulative im- 
pression is made in favour of the line of conduct that 
ought to be followed in given situations. The exposition 
of the mischiefs and the dangers of falsehood, instead 
of being left to chance occurrences and scattered effects, 
here a little and there a little, is made more emphatic 
by gathering together a host of instances, real and 
feigned, working to one total effect. 

For such lessons, a good classification of virtues and 
vices is a prime essential. The teacher needs to have a 
clear scheme before him, in order to concentrate his 
teaching. If the same thing is repeated under various 
names, the result is mere distraction of mind. The 
fundamental virtues need to be grasped in the first 
instance, and to be indicated under their best-known 
designations : also they should be exemplified in pure 
and typical instances. The mixed and modified virtues 
are then rendered intelligible. 

The main disadvantage of the scheme arises from the 
weak conceptive power of the pupils. Imagined cases 
of virtue and vice do not always have their full effect, 
with minds that are little experienced in the ways of 
the world. It becomes necessary to put the examples 
in forms that are too unqualified, and that leave defec- 
tive and one-sided impressions, not easy to be got rid of. 

In Ethics, as in other subjects, there may be a desul- 
tory treatment, preparatory to the regular and methodical 
treatment. Instances may occur conveniently by chance, 
and may be used to make an impression ; but then, like 
cases in law, they must carry their principle on their 



404 MORAL EDUCATION. 

face, which requires them to be properly generalized ; 
and this involves the same subtle perception on the 
part of the pupil as is implied in the understanding of 
the classified virtues. 

A few words on the Classification of the Virtues. The 
cardinal virtues, in the modern treatment, are Prudence, 
Probity or Justice, and Benevolence. PRUDENCE is 
sometimes described as the Duties that we owe to our- 
selves, but this is not the most suitable expression. 
Prudence, or self-regarding conduct, stands in a very 
different position from the two other cardinal virtues : 
it has the support of our own natural self-seeking im- 
pulses. The obstacles to be overcome are — want of 
knowledge, and present impulse. Knowledge is gained 
in time, and may be aided by teaching ; impulse can be 
to a small extent checked or controlled by guidance, 
admonition, and representation of future consequences. 
The important point is, that this is not the region of 
authority, except in the parental sphere ; but the region 
of friendly advice, information, and assistance. It is the 
more necessary to attend with rigour to the speciality 
of the prudential virtue, that we are always prone to 
assume the air of authority in dealing with those that 
are in our power : and moreover, there is an easy pre- 
text for making prudence a matter of obligation, inas- 
much as, if any man is imprudent in his own affairs, he 
is likely to fail in some of his duties to others. If a 
parent is idle, spendthrift, or drunken, his family suffer. 
Nevertheless, it will be found that there is a gain in per- 
suasiveness, by taking each virtue in its own proper 
character, in the first instance ; and the proper character 



CLASSIFICATION OF THE VIRTUES. 405 

of prudence is the enlightened regard to our own 
interest. This is the first and easiest conquest over 
our inherent moral weaknesses. The line to be pur- 
sued is special and distinct. 

The aspects and departments of Prudence — as In- 
dustry, Thrift, Temperance — are all intelligible, and 
should be kept in view by the teacher, in his scheme of 
the virtues. 

A very great part of Prudence unavoidably concerns 
our relations with others ; for to get the most we can 
from life, we must behave well to everyone that has 
the pov/er to help or to thwart us. This social situation 
also brings into view our duties properly so-called — Jus- 
tice and Benevolence ; still we must rigidly abstain from 
entering on these, while our aim is to impress the self- 
regarding proprieties. The reasons will presently be 
seen. 

The virtue of Probity, or JUSTICE, ranks first among 
our social duties or obligations. Justice is the protec- 
tion of one man against every other man ; it is what is 
embodied in the laws, and enforced by penalties. The 
promulgation of these penalties, as already remarked, 
is the primary teaching of Justice. The teaching of the 
schoolmaster co-operates, by endeavouring to correct in 
advance the evil dispositions that incur the penalties. The 
essential idea of Justice is reciprocal good, and reciprocal 
abstinence from harm. It is the conduct imposed alike 
upon all, for the advantage of each. Nobody is ex- 
pected to do more or less than what is prescribed for 
every member of the society. 

The virtue of BENEVOLENCE is something beyond 

justice. It is doing good irrespective of the social neces- 
19 



406 MORAL EDUCATION. 

sities that Justice proceeds upon. It is not enjoined by- 
penalties, but' recommended to the voluntary choice of 
individuals. Its chief occasion is distress or privation 
arising through inequality of fortune, and through the 
accidents that render individuals unable to support 
themselves. 

Self-sacrifice, devotedness, kindness, pity, compas- 
sion, doing good, beneficence, philanthropy — are among 
the numerous designations for this portion of moral duty. 
Besides all which, there are certain qualities that seem 
either to fall under the two other heads or to stand 
altogether apart, but that really come under the present 
head. Fortitude, courage, constancy, contentment — are 
prudential virtues to appearance, but the high praise 
accorded to them shows that they are supports of Jus- 
tice and Benevolence ; Honesty is a name for probity 
carried to the length of positive benevolence. 

The virtue of Truth is sometimes regarded as an 
independent virtue ; but, in reality, it is an adjunct ot 
the others. It is a remarkably precise virtue : it does 
not admit of gradations, in the same sense as the others; 
it is a matter of yea or nay. 

These three fundamental virtues cross and re-cross 
at so many points, that it needs a steady grasp to hold 
each class firmly according to its essential nature ; yet 
this is what the moral teacher should be able to do, if he 
is to marshal his resources in the most effective way. 
A good course of Moral Science should impart this 
fundamental qualification. 

Next to classifying the Virtues, is the correct appre- 
hension of the Motives. There is an equal liability to 



THE MOTIVES CORRECTLY APPREHENDED. 407 

confusion as regards these. The fundamental division is 
into Self-regarding and Extra-regarding or Social ; and 
as each of these classes readily simulates the other, 
there is the same necessity for viewing each in its pro- 
per character at the outset. Prudence is the area of 
self-regarding motives : Justice supposes a mixture of 
the self-regarding and the social : Benevolence is the 
region of the Social or altruistic regards, pure and pro- 
per, together with a certain high and refined class of 
self-regarding motives, growing out of our social dis- 
positions. 

The appeal to the SELF-REGARDING motives follows 
a line peculiar to itself, which is well understood in ora- 
tory. It consists in making apparent the bearings of con- 
duct upon the individual's own welfare; and is to be kept 
distinct. The virtues of industry, thrift, temperance, de- 
votion to study or to knowledge, have each their reward, 
which ought to be rendered as palpable and evident as 
possible. All this is to be clearly distinguished from 
the social bearings, in order that each one of the forces 
may attain its full momentum. Moreover, there are 
many reasons why it is much easier to work upon the 
selfish feelings of men, than upon the other class. 

It is in addressing the SOCIAL MOTIVES that we are 
chiefly liable to commit mistakes. We are here work- 
ing upon the exceptional part of the human constitution, 
the small corner of self-devotion ; and we are in con- 
stant danger of quitting the narrow road to it, for the 
broad way of prudential self-regard. We shall not suc- 
ceed in evoking great virtues by teaching and persuasion, 
unless we can clearly keep before us the social motives, 
first in their purest type of absolute self-sacrifice, and 



408 MORAL EDUCATION. 

next in their mixed character as made up of the social 
cravings and pleasures. 

There are many arts bearing on such an attempt, 
which are minutely detailed under the philosophy of 
Sympathy. The one point to be steadily kept in view 
is this. The social aptitudes, like everything else, must 
be exercised ; and the mode of exercising them, is by 
directing and securing the attention upon the wants and 
the feelings of others. The most palpable form is Pity 
for manifest distress ; next is Sympathy with the plea- 
sures of our fellow-beings ; and, by plying these exer- 
cises, a habit of taking interest in those about us is 
likely to be fostered. So to conduct the operation 
as to keep out altogether the self-seeking motives, is 
the delicate part of the task. 

The second-class motives of Sociability — the cravings 
for Love, Affection, Pity — are perhaps the most power- 
ful instrument of moral suasion : for, while having a 
genuinely altruistic side, they contain a very large mass 
of purely self-regarding emotions. To urge them exclu- 
sively is to degenerate from the high standard of pure 
altruism: and the most successful result will not be 
anything very lofty. Yet there is a lower deep, and 
a greater danger, namely, to make the cultivation of 
mutual regards bring forth, not pure affection, but mere 
worldly advantage. 

A third survey equally necessary for the moral 
teacher, is the Relationships of Society : beginning at 
the Family, and extending to the State and the World 
at large. A clear conception should be attained of the 
exact bearing of every one of the Social groupings - what 



PERSUASIVE ADDRESS. 4O9 

it is intended for, and what it is not intended for — so as 
to define the conduct suited to each. This comes under 
the wide department of Sociology, or Social Science and 
Philosophy, which is irregularly provided for in the 
school curriculum. The study of the relationship of 
parent and child, master and servant, ruler and subject 
— has an understood moral bearing, and may be prose- 
cuted in that view, 

A further condition of successful moral teaching is 
a command of the stores of Language and diction that 
embrace the topics of moral suasion. This leads at once 
to the higher region of spoken address, as exempli- 
fied by our greatest orators. Without a certain com- 
pass of expression, and that well directed to the purpose, 
no one can hope to produce deep moral impressions by 
mere teaching ; and hence very little is to be expected 
of the common schoolmaster working in his own strength. 
It is only by being provided with good and suitable 
compositions, to be made use of in his teaching, that he 
can exert any influence raised above the effect of the 
common-place maxims floating in society — ' Honesty is 
the best polic)',' *be just before you're generous,' 'in all 
things look to the end.' ' bear and forbear,' ' do all the 
good you can,' &c. 

The briefest glance at moral teaching must not omit 
the topic of Moral Ideals. It is in Morality, more espe- 
cially, that the teacher works by putting forward grand, 
lofty, and even unapproachable Ideals ; the supposition 
being that the charm and attractiveness of these will 
make a far more powerful impression than any unvar- 



410 MORAL EDUCATION. 

nished statement of consequences. From the earliest 
recorded ages, the moral education of mankind has pro- 
ceeded upon a system of habitual exaggeration, as if 
the naked truth of things would not answer the end. 
Hardly any usage has a larger consensus than this. The 
miseries of vice and the glorious prospects of virtue arc 
always depicted in terms far beyond the fact. Unless 
in some degree successful for its purpose the practice 
could hardly be so universal. The moral influence of 
an excited ideal of future good or evil must be looked 
upon as something very considerable. For we cannot 
be blind to the dangers or disadvantages of the system.- 
In substituting the license of imagination for the restraints 
of truth, we incur serious liabilities. There must be some 
limits set to exaggeration, even for its own purpose : 
and these limits have not been duly observed in the 
stimulating compositions that are embodied in the les- 
son-books. But until this whole subject has been revised 
for wider application than the school, it is not to be 
expected that the teacher should quarrel with the mate- 
rials put into his hand. All that he can do is to keep 
well before him the sober facts of life, as a counterpoise 
to the poetic flights of the lesson-book. While in the 
Ideal, self-devotion or self-.sacrifice is depicted so as to 
kindle a momentary glow, the hard reality warns us 
that only a very small portion of this can be engrained 
in the average individual. Rivalry, competition, over- 
grasping and supplanting — are what we have to deal 
with on one side ; and on the other, we have to set 
the tendencies to the social, the sympathetic, and the 
amiable ; and close is the game we have to play in the 
encounter. 



REPUGNANCE TO MORAL LECTURES. 4I I 

In the few remaining pages that can be devoted to 
this great subject, I will indicate what most requires 
caution in plying moral lessons. 

I. A large part of the tactics of the teacher is deter- 
mined by the natural repugnance of human nature to 
the whole subject. Pupils would much rather be in- 
structed in knowledge than be lectured on virtue ; while, 
as regards knowledge, want of liking is not so fatal to 
the end. The use of the fable, the parable, and the 
example, is evidently meant to avoid direct lecturing, 
and to reach the mind by insinuation and circumven- 
tion. 

The lesson that arises unsought, that obtrudes itself 
on the attention when engaged in other matters, is the 
most effective of all. This is one of the incidents of his- 
torical reading ; but there should not be an obvious con- 
trivance to bring it about. Moral reflections that are 
self-originating, that arise unavoidably in a given situa- 
tion, are likely to yield an abiding impression. The 
spectacle of disaster from want of forethought, from 
quarrels and dissensions, from culpable ignorance, 
awakens the thoughtful mind to the value of the leading 
prudential virtues. 

Tales, narratives, and biographies, that suggest the 
high moral qualities, produce their greatest effect when 
spontaneously perused ; their recurrence in the lesson- 
book, as tasks, . introduces the drawback of dictation 
from without, which it needs much tact on the part of 
the master to suppress. The books of the children's own 
choice, read without any responsibility, are their most 
persuasive monitors.' 

' ' The well-meant but futile ' — ' Hence we should learn,' and ' how im- 



412 MORAL EDUCATION. 

2. The moral teacher all through must work by con- 
ciliation, and not by fear. In order to produce a certain 
external appearance of good conduct, fear and punish- 
ment will succeed ; but the inward sentiment cannot be 
gained in the same way. Wherever concealment is prac- 
ticable, we need to address the free-will of the subject. 
The attempt at compulsion only increases the natural per- 
versity. At an early age, when the child is pliable under 
influence, and not so much given to self-assertion, re- 
probation and punishment sink into the mind, and mould 
its inward sentiments of right and wrong ; but we must 
carefully watch the moment of transition from this 
humble and susceptible period to the development of 
egotistic preferences, under which the same system will 
no longer work. For boys and girls above twelve, we 
may as a rule pronounce that moral lecturing, except in 
actual discipline, is misplaced; and only a very round- 
about approach to the subject can be borne. In the 
higher Schools and Universities direct moral teaching 
is by common consent disused as part of the ordinary 
class work. 

3. We may appeal at any time to the prudential or 
self-regarding motives, provided we do not seem to be 
courting pretexts for repression and prohibition. If we 

portant it is ever to remember,' answer no purpose whatever in Education, 
except that of giving the conge to the minds of children, whether as audi- 
tors or readers : it is a — ' Now you may go, while I preach.' The efficacious 
mode of instilling moral principles, as suggested by the history of nations, 
is, at choice moments, and when all minds are seen to be in a state of gentle 
emotion, and in a plastic mood, to drop the word or two of practical in- 
ference, to enounce the single, pithy, well-digested sentiment, which, by its 
natural affinity with the excited feelings, at the moment, shall combine 
itself with the recollected facts. (Isaac Taylor, Home Education, 
p. 258.) 



SELF-REGARDING MOTIVES. 413 

show genuine anxiety for the interests of our pupils, we 
shall be listened to with attention ; our chief danger is, 
that we look further ahead than their vision can follow 
us. To paint a picture of future consequences that shall 
be neither extravagant nor unintelligible is the standing 
difficulty. At an early age insurmountable, it diminishes 
with years, but always puts the utmost strain upon the 
tact of the teacher ; nor are there many good models 
provided as aids. 

The intermediate class of motives— neither purely 
self-regarding, nor purely heroic — are the social likings 
and affections, including compassion and pity. The 
cravings for affection undergo considerable changes in 
the critical periods of mental growth. At first, depend- 
ence inclines to the loving mood ; then comes the age 
of vigorous impulses and self-sufficiency, when the lust 
of power carried to domination and cruelty is rampant, 
— as in the flower of boyhood. Very little is now gained 
by appeals to love, affisction, and pity ; the moment 
chosen must be very opportune to give a chance of suc- 
cess. Possibly this is the age when the higher altruistic 
or heroic motives maybe used. Yet it is in the employ- 
ment of these higher appeals that cautious reserve is 
most wanted. There is in every human breast a certain 
response to the trumpet call of heroic self-sacrifice ; but 
it should be kept for special occasions, and not wasted. 
The quantity of it that ever turns to action is very small 
in the mass of minds ; the earth is salted by the heroism 
of the few. 

There is a mixed sentiment, containing a spice of 
the heroic, with a large element of the egotistic, that can 
be successfully appealed to in counterworking the baser 



414 MORAL EDUCATION. 

forms of egotism. This is the sentiment of Honour and 
Personal Dignity, which is cherished by social position, 
and may be found in all but the most worthless. To 
stigmatize conduct as low, debasing, degrading, shame- 
ful, dishonourable, unworthy, is a very powerful weapon, 
at all times; and it is the appeal found most telling in 
the unruly years of youth. The temperance orators have 
not discovered a stronger buttress to their cause than 
this. It would be advantageous to every teacher to be 
able to wield this topic of address with skill and delicacy, 
care being taken to husband it for great emergencies. 

4. Much as Plato has been criticized for his severe 
judgment on Poets, the fact remains that, taken as mo- 
ral teachers, they are given to exaggeration. They are 
artists first, and moralists next; and art, aiming at the 
agreeable, is adverse to imposing restraints or self-denial. 
When the sphere of Poetry is extended, as it ought to 
be, to include Romance, we feel at once the force of the 
observation. The poet expresses, as no one else can, 
whatever is grand, sublime, noble, in conduct, and is thus 
an aid in the stimulus to the heroic. But the safer basis 
for the teacher is History ; Pericles, Timoleon, King 
Alfred, John Hampden, Grace Darling, can be depicted 
in the colours of sobriety and truth without detriment 
to their inspiring example. The heroes of romance and 
poetry are most frequently impossible combinations. A 
poet is either very sanguine and holds out delusive hopes, 
or else cynical, and distorts the legitimate expectations 
of the human mind. In Romance, the personages are 
sure to be over-rewarded for any good they do, A poet 
that would lend his genius to the vocation of moral 
teaching, would endeavour to be true to life, and yet 



MUTUALITY IN SERVICES. 415 

colour it with a gentle halo of the attractive and agree- 
able ; and such would be the kind of composition that 
the instructor of youth would desiderate to assist him in 
his work. 

We do not quarrel with our laureate for his lines in 
the Ode to the Duke of Wellington — 

Not once or twice in our fair island story, 
The path of duty was the way to glory — , 

but we know that the glory of the Duke of Wellington 
demanded many other conditions than duty ; and that 
very few, in any age, come to glory, however well they 
do their duty. A teacher might make a safe and sober 
lesson out of the Duke's career, without altogether 
ignoring his great personal endowments and his ad- 
vantages of fortune. 

5. The vast theme of Mutuality in services, good 
offices, and affection, is inexhaustible. The purpose ot 
self-devotion or self-sacrifice in one man is not to 
pander to the self-seeking of other men, but to make 
them enter into the relationship of mutual giving and 
receiving, in which human beings find their greatest 
happiness. One-sided devotion is temporary and pro- 
visional ; if it does not bring the fmit of reciprocation, it 
naturally ceases. So great, nevertheless, is the realized 
blessing of genuine mutuality, that we should go great 
lengths to attain it. 

The most salient example of the principle of mutu- 
ality is courtesy, or nmtual kindness in small things. 
People can be educated thus far with comparative ease. 
To go the length of bearing one another's heavier bur- 
dens is a much rarer achievement. Yet there is very 



4l6 MORAL EDUCATION. 

little substantial virtue without this. The difficulty lies 
in commencing ; we feel so little assured that we are not 
throwing away our sacrifices. The average man cannot 
afford to be generous when all around him are selfish. 

In inculcating, as the teacher must, the duty of 
v/orking for others, he should not throw overboard 
the reciprocity of services, as the crowning of the work. 
This alone keeps his pace steady, under the incitements 
of highly wrought ideals of self-devotion ; it is the reward 
that is neither illusory, nor infinitely remote. 

6. Humanity, in the shape of forbearance in the first 
place, and of active help under extreme need in the 
next, is the best worn topic of the lessons to the young. 
The tales accommodated to this end are numerous and 
happily told ; and the iterations of it during the earliest 
years cannot be without fruit. Like everything else, it 
suffers by being ill-timed or overdone ; but if a teacher 
is instrumental in making any moral impression at all, 
it should be this. True, the effect produced on tender 
years will be submerged in the un-tender years that 
follow them, but it will ultimately re-appear. It is well 
that the youngest should begin to feel revulsion against 
cruelty, oppression, intolerance ; against the horrors of 
slavery and the brutality of despotism ; and not least, 
against the abuse of power over the lower animals. 

7. The virtue of Truth-telling calls for a special 
remark. The telling of a lie is an act so explicit and 
distinct, that it can be brought home to the offender 
beyond all possibility of evasion. There is, however, a 
defect of treatment when lying is regarded as vice stand- 
ing on its own independent foundation. In point of fact, 
there is always a power behind that needs also to be 



EXAMPLE OF ANIMALS WEAK. 417 

grappled with. A lie is told to gain a purpose— to 
evade a penalty or secure an advantage ; and we should 
trace it back to its groundwork in these primary forms 
of selfishness, and deal more with them than with their 
formal instrument. The admonition or the punishment 
can be made much more appropriate when the insti- 
gating motive is before us. A lie to escape a tyrant's rod, 
is not the same as lying to snatch an unfair advantage ; 
and the mode of treatment should vary with the motive. 
It is only such as arc fairly and kindly dealt with that 
grow up truth-speaking ; in them, lies are without palli- 
ation or excuse : with others, telling the truth under all 
circumstances is moral grandeur, and, when commended 
as an example, should be set forth as heroic. 

8. It may bring these desultory remarks to a point 
to advert more particularly to some of the common mis- 
carriages in well-meant moral teaching. There are a 
good many commonplaces of moral suasion that do 
not bear a scrutiny ; that are either sophistical in prin- 
ciple, or nugatory in operation. A few examples will 
suffice. 

A common lesson with children is drawn from the ex- 
ample of animals, especially as an incitement to industry. 
The bee and the ant are supposed to put to the blush 
the idle among human beings. As an agreeable exercise 
of the fancy, such comparisons could be tolerated ; but 
there is no suitability or relevance in likening subjects so 
widely removed as human beings and insects. There is 
no record of anyone being made industrious really by 
the example of the bee ; it may be reasonably doubted 
whether any animal was ever adopted as a model of any 
virtue, or as a beacon against any vice. Such allusions 



41 8 MORAL EDUCATION. 

should never be treated as serious ; they are simply fan- 
ciful and amusing ; and may easily become silly. Though 
children cannot be made logical, they need not be made 
illogical by false analogies. If the ant is a model for 
industry, it is equally so for slave-keeping, and for all 
those other questionable practices recently reported by 
Sir John Lubbock as found in ant communities. 

Notwithstanding that Industry is not the fulfilling of 
the whole law, it is at least the basis and sme qua non 
of the other virtues. Hence, to reconcile the young to 
abandon ease and self-indulgence for labour is one of 
the most urgent topics of moral suasion. The greatness 
of the stake makes it all the more incumbent on us not 
to make any false move. Our incentives should be 
well-grounded in fact, as well as efficacious with those 
addressed. Now it seems a wrong start, to take the 
very high ground, so often taken, that labour is a good 
or a blessing in itself; that people cannot be happy 
without it ; that the most miserable of mankind are 
those that have nothing to do. A correcter view of the 
necessity of labour would be equally influential as a mo- 
tive. Every well-constituted human being has a certain 
amount of disposable energy, to expend which gives 
some pleasure, or at worst, is not painful, while health 
lasts. This is to be employed in gaining a livelihood, 
and as many enjoyments as possible. There is some- 
times a reluctance to be overcome in employing this 
amount of strength for any purpose ; and often a great 
reluctance in employing it in particular ways. Yet such 
reluctance has to be overcome ; nay more, the expen- 
diture of strength must often reach the point of painful 
fatigue. Still, considering that without enduring these 



HOW TO VIEW POVERTY. 419 

crosses, we cannot obtain the supply of our wants, still 
less the greater pleasures of life, our wisdom lies in 
submitting to the evil for the sake of the good. Such 
is the fair account of the conditions of Labour. There 
is great exaggeration in describing the miseries of the 
idle rich : we may even exaggerate the misery of the 
idle poor ; for these rely upon others for the neces- 
saries of life, and, in consideration of ease, can do with- 
out luxuries. This position should be assailed as 
grovelling, despicable, and precarious, rather than as 
absolutely miserable. 

There is much needless and transparent sophistry in 
pronouncing all labour alike honourable. It is true in a 
certain narrow sense, that to work for one's livelihood 
is to enter into the common brotherhood of men, on 
whom, with a few exceptions, this necessity is laid. But 
honour means distinction, the singling out of a few 
among the many. For reasons, partly natural, partly 
conventional, some kinds of labour are highly rewarded 
both with money and with rank ; in fact, there is an 
understood gradation in all services, and this cannot be 
smoothed down. A common soldier if he does his duty, 
has a certain amount of payment and esteem, but both 
one and the other are, and must be, very moderate 
indeed. 

On the sad subject of Poverty, the proper line must 
always be to dwell upon its remediable side. In the case 
of those that have become old or disabled without re- 
sources, there is nothing for it but to provide support at 
the charge of somebody ; but for those beginning life, 
the grand lesson to aim at is to surmount the evil. 
There is a certain moral courage in Burns's refrain- — 



420 MORAL EDUCATION. 

'we dare be poor for a' that,' but it has little else in its 
favour. Contentment is not an unqualified virtue ; it 
applies only after we have done our best. 

It is in this connection that sound economical lessons 
are so valuable. We have to deal, at the present day, 
with vast volumes of discontent, more or less openly 
displayed. The teacher cannot avoid the topic of the 
enormous inequalities of human conditions, and it will 
demand some skill to keep clear of sophistry ; indeed, 
if he is to follow in the commonplace tracks, he will find 
sophistry plentiful. Inequality has its first legitimate 
justification in superior industry, energy, and ability ; 
affluence is the fruit of an industrious career. The in- 
equality thus brought about is respected by everyone 
but the thief The next stage opens up all the difficul- 
ties. The successful man bequeaths his amassed fortune 
to his children, relieving them from labour in every 
shape; and the expediency of respecting property is 
made to cover this case also. Is there to be no limit 
then to accumulation .-* The question is a political or 
social one : the sole mode of meeting the natural dis- 
content with prevailing inequalities, is a Social Science 
discussion ; and the wants of the time require this to be 
thorough. 

We have viewed Morality hitherto without naming its 
connection with RELIGION. The schoolmaster of the 
primary school is expected to be an instructor in Reli- 
gion, both in its own proper character, and as the support 
of the highest morality. If a very formal and perfunc- 
tory discharge of this duty were not readily accepted, it 
would be the teacher's heaviest burden. Any remarks 



RELIGION AND MORALITY. 42 1 

that I have to offer on so vexed a subject, will be in the 
same general direction as the whole of the present work, 
namely, the distinguishing of the diverse elements in 
aggregates that pass as indivisible wholes. ^ 

Some contend that Religion and Morality cannot be 
separated for an instant. The philosopher Kant went 
far to identify the two : his object was to make Morality 
supreme. Others think the identity necessary in order 
to make Religion supreme. A middle view is decidedly 
called for here : Morality is not Religion, and Religion 
is not Morality ; and yet the two have points of coinci- 
dence. Morality cannot be the same thing without Re- 
ligion as with it ; Religion, working in its own sphere, 
does not make full provision for all the moral exigencies 
of human life. The precepts of morality must be chiefly 
grounded on our human relations in this world, as known 
by practical experience ; the motives too grow very 
largely out of those relations. Religion has precepts of 
its own, and motives of its own ; and these are all the 
more effectively worked, when worked in separation. 

' ' The first and most necessary instrumental for conveying ethical mfor- 
mation to the altogether untutored, would be an ethical catechism. It ought 
to go before the religious catechism, and to be taught separately, and quite 
independent of it, and not, as is too often done, taught along with it, and 
thrust into it, as it were by parentheses ; for it is singly on pure ethic 
principles that a transit can be made from virtue to religion, and when the 
case is otherwise, the confessions are insincere.' — Kant's Metaphysic of 
Ethics, Scrapie's Translation, p. 329. 

• Perhaps truth is in some degree sacrificed to system when we attempt 
to keep the boundary line between morality and religion clearly marked ; 
but it holds true in general that morality is concerned with the conduct, 
religion with the emotions ; that morality consists in the consciousness of a 
subjective release from all bondage. The moral precepts, which are obeyed 
by many, are not deduced from the religious sentiments, which are ex- 
perienced by few ; but the connection long assumed to exist between mo- 



422 MORAL EDUCATION. 

We have seen what are the difficulties and the snares 
of teaching, when morality is taken by itself ; namely, 
the jumbling up of prudential, social, and heroic motives, 
no one class receiving its fair and full expansion. The 
embroilment as regards method and order must become 
worse by the addition of Religious doctrines and the 
Religious bearings of morality. It is then that we have 
lessons given in our schools like this — on Truthfulness : 
' Truthfulness is the moral quality we transgress when 
we tell a lie. There is no external reward for it ; it is 
pleasing to God ; we gain a happy conscience ; it is the 
duty we owe to our neighbour.' Such is a form of tuition 
prescribed by a Head Master under the London School 
Board. 

The teaching of Religion, on its own account, is 
conducted in schools by means of Bible lessons, with 
or without a doctrinal Catechism. In many Teaching 
Manuals, the management of the Bible lesson is minutely 
formulated. In the German Schools, the order of topics 
in Religious instruction is officially laid down ; the 
simple Bible narratives are given first, and the com- 
pendium of Doctrines last. If the aim of the whole 
were the giving of knowledge, as in ordinary instruction, 
the plans to follow would be such as we have been 
engaged in investigating all through. And, no doubt, 

rality and religion is not the less real because the order of it has been 
inverted, for it is by the acceptance of the most abstract conclusions of 
morality that the mind is prepared to receive the intuitions of religion. 
The fruit of religious culture is a disposition to do the good without com- 
pulsion, without inducement, by an instinct that does not stop to choose or 
reason, and on that very account is able to override the force of impeding 
moilvQs.'—N'atJiral Law, by Miss Edith Simcox, p. i8o. 



HOW RELIGION CAN BE TAUGHT. 423 

there is an intellectual element in Religion ; but the 
essence of Religion must always be something Emo- 
tional ; and the culture of Emotion is not carried on 
advantageously in ordinary school teaching. The system 
that is best for securing the intellectual element, is not 
best for securing the emotional element. Regularity of 
lesson, method and sequence, a certain rigour of disci- 
pline — are all in favour of a steady progress in know- 
ledge ; but the calling out and exercising of warm 
affection, or deep feeling, depend on improving oppor- 
tunities or events such as scarcely occur in school 
experience. The official direction of the National 
Schools, in taking securities against proselytism and 
sectarian bias, on the part of teachers, deprives them 
of the freedom of action that is needed for producing 
emotional impressions. 

In the introductory Psychological chapter, we glanced 
at some o*f the specialities attending the growth of asso- 
ciations with the feelings ; under the most favourable 
circumstances, such growths need long years to attain 
the intensity requisite to raise them to the pitch of high 
moral influence. This applies pre-eminently to the 
Religious feelings ; seeing that these are expected to be 
a power in themselves to compensate for the ills of life. 
We look to the wrong place, when we entrust this 
operation to the ordinary schoolmaster. The parent, 
the church, the individual's self, the spirit of the age as 
shown in general society and in literature,— combine to 
ensure the presence or the absence of the Religious tone 
of mind ; the national school counts for the smallest 
item in the total. 

People might well be satisfied, as far as regards the 



424 MORAL EDUCATION. 

school, with the markedly Theistic and Christian vein of 
all the Lesson-books, and with the great susceptibility 
of the young mind to the explanation of the world by a 
Personal God, Any results beyond, should be sought 
somewhere else. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

AR7 EDUCATION. 

On this subject all that I consider necessary is to define 
the position of Art teaching in the scheme of education 
— primary and secondary. 

Many allusions have already been made to Fine Art. 
As one of the great sources of pleasure, it may be made 
a stimulus to study, as to any other form of effort. If 
education is viewed as a means of human happiness 
it should not omit Art accomplishments. Moreover, 
among the recognized branches of common education, are 
Drawing, Music, Elocution, Good Breeding, Literature, 
— all coming within the scope of Fine Art. Once more, 
the environment of the school is sought to be rendered 
artistic. 

If Ave are asked — Is there any Method of Art teach- 
ing i* — the answer is ' Yes.' Nevertheless, the subtleties 
are so great, that I shall have to be content with merely 
indicating what these consist in. 

The Artist proper — the painter, musician, sculptor — 
has a mechanical and an intellectual education to go 
through, whose rationale is easy enough. To be a mu- 
sical performer, the voice (or the hand) and the ear 
are trained by practice or exercise, and the general con- 
ditions of success are the same as in any other skilled 
exertion : natural retentiveness, the organ good, the 



426 ART EDUCATION. 

sense delicate, iteration or practice, and, last not least, 
concentration induced by pleasurable emotion, or interest 
in the work. The feeling is the only speciality in Art. 
By the names — Taste, Esthetic or Art sensibility, sense 
of Beauty — we express a complex aggregate of human 
emotion, which it is not easy to give account of. Art 
cultivation means the calling forth, intensifying, guiding, 
purifying, of this mass of sensibility; and it is not neces- 
sarily accompanied with the power of Art execution. The 
taste for music may exist without the ability to per- 
form ; the enjoyment of pictures does not suppose the 
power of drawing or painting. 

There can be little doubt that one way of attaining 
to Art-Emotion, is to become an artist. By being 
taught to sing, or to play on an instrument, we become 
versed in a wide range of musical compositions, and 
acquire or strengthen the taste for music. Certain ori- 
ginal endowments are pre-supposed ; we must have the 
natural enjoyment of sweet sounds, a certain discrimina- 
tion of tones, the feeling for concords, and perhaps some 
other abstruse sensibilities. These give us a pleasure 
in music from the beginning ; our musical education 
adds to, and refines upon, the primary satisfaction. An 
exact parallel cpuld be given from Drawing. 

But a wider view must be taken of the cultivation 
of the feeling for Art ; only a few are artists, the rest 
enjoy the works produced by these. It is considered 
desirable that people generally should not merely have 
access to performances and treasures of Art, but should 
be taught, or in some way assisted, to reap the full 
pleasure that these are fitted to afford. 

To illustrate the supposed culture of aesthetic senti- 



CULTURE OF TASTE EXEMPLIFIED. 427 

ment, I will take the example of the taste for Land- 
scape. We have here a good representative of the many- 
different tributaries to the stream of Art enjoyment. 
We must begin with certain primary sensibilities of 
the senses, the eye more especially. The colour sense, 
which is a very variable thing, and sometimes very 
defective, must manifestly exist in a fair, if not full, 
measure. The primary sensibilities to form, which are 
not so easy to isolate, must also be assumed. The 
emotional susceptibility to tenderness, as a chief source 
of the associations of landscape, must not be wanting. 
Unless I am greatly mistaken, the malevolent sentiment 
also must be present, as a basis for the sublime ; al- 
though there is no need for calling the emotion into 
undue exercise in its actual workings. These requisites 
of sensation and emotion belong to every art ; their 
natural amount, in all probability, cannot be greatly 
increased ; the stress of cultivation must take some 
different course. 

Our next step, in the case supposed, must obviously 
be to see landscapes ; and to see them in a leisurely, 
deliberate manner, so as to examine their features with 
care. Under this survey, the senses are gratified, the 
emotional suggestiveness is brought out, and the collec- 
tive interest is felt. The sight of one landscape makes 
us disposed to go in search of others. 

The result is greatly dependent on two circum- 
stances. One is a happy frame of mind ; as when we 
are introduced to landscape glories, in the freshness of 
youth, and in the exhilaration of holidays. This is one 
of the occasions of laying up a store for the future, 
by associations with pleasurable feeling. To come into 



428 ART EDUCATION. 

contact with scenes of beauty, in moments otherwise 
rendered happy, is both present and future bliss. 

The second favourable circumstance is the guidance 
of some skilled monitor. In the presence of a beautiful 
scene, or a work of art, we derive great benefit from 
being shown where and how to direct our attention. We 
may chance to be misled, but it is assumed that we can 
find some one more advanced than ourselves in the con- 
ditions that regulate aesthetic pleasure. This is the role 
of the Art instructor for all. 

It ought to be superfluous to remark that the land- 
scape taste grows exactly with the devotion that we 
give to it. An occasional weary moment beguiled, a tran- 
sient glance on the road to business, will not carry for- 
ward any taste, any rich emotional response to nature 
or art. We must surrender some portion of our vital 
energy to the accumulating of those innumerable little 
rills of pleasure that flow out in the presence of natural 
grandeur, or artistic adornment. 

So far I have kept in view the main chance, how to 
aggrandize natural susceptibility to art pleasure, and so 
to create an enduring fund of delight. This is taste in 
the best, although not in the only, sense of the word. 
The cultivation of taste further implies discrimination 
and judgment of effects ; it warns us against being 
pleased with certain things, on the ground that to be so 
pleased either interferes with the highest enjoyment of 
art on the whole, or brings us into collision with some of 
the other interests of life — as truth, utility, morality — 
which are liable to be sacrificed to the ends of art. This 
branch of aesthetics, even more than the other, needs a 
monitor ; and taking the two together, we can see the 



POETRY, 429 

scope that there is for Art teaching to the general com- 
munity. 

A short appHcation to the chief branches of Art 
study, will complete the design of this chapter. 

Of Music there is nothing further to be said. It 
is the art most universally cultivated by the mass of 
people ; and this cultivation is followed by the taste. 
Without being able to perform, one may acquire the 
taste by listening to performances, under the favourable 
conditions above laid down. 

Elocution is hardly yet begun to be thought of 
as a refining social pleasure. I shall allude to it again 
presently. 

The group of Arts addressed to the eye — Painting, 
Design, Sculpture, Architecture — are the enjoyment of 
many ; but their production is confined to a few. The 
culture of Taste in them has, therefore, to be carried on 
by the study of the works. The enjoyment increases in 
the manner already illustrated ; while the discriminative 
taste may want a great deal of instruction. To reconcile 
all the elements in a picture, or a building, needs many 
adjustments and restraints that are not understood by 
mere natural sense, however acute. 

The Poetic art raises all the questions of art culture, 
and on it we may expend the remainder of our observa- 
tions. As being the union of language with pictures of 
nature and life, it exceeds the other arts in the number 
of elements to be reconciled. It affects a greater surface 
of sense and emotion than either music (by itself) or 
painting. 

The poetic culture is involved in the course of Lite- 
rature, beginning with the mother tongue. The refine- 
20 



430 ART EDUCATION. 

ments of pot-try are connected with many kinds of pure 
composition. Every literary teacher contributes to the 
poetic taste, both as enjoyment and as discrimination. 
By reading poets and critics, under favourable aus- 
pices, we are strengthened and confirmed in the same 
gifts. 

The susceptibility to poetry includes the ear, the 
eye, the emotional nature, a pretty wide experience of 
life, and no little book knowledge. The increasing 
compass of allusions in modern poetry makes it less 
and less the recreation of the mass of people : but there 
is always enough in the generality of poets to touch the 
chords of average human nature. 

The Ideal character of Poetry was unavoidably 
touched in connection with moral teaching. Herein lies 
both its strength and its weakness. To idealize is to 
transcend reality or fact, and bring about a collision 
between ourselves and the world. The intense pleasure 
of the ideal is what redeems the discrepancy. The 
fine frenzy, the ecstasy, of the poet's world, is the inspi- 
ration to virtue, by being the spiritual reward of self- 
denial. It performs the part assigned to religion. Hence 
poets assume to themselves the vocation of being the 
best teachers of virtue ; Horace testifies thus for Homer, 
and Milton for the Greek tragedians. The question 
recurs — By what means do they produce their magical 
effects, and are these means in themselves always 
favourable to virtue .'' The poet must make himself 
agreeable to the multitude, and this demands conces- 
sions to human weakness ; above all things, it needs 
indulgences, illusions, and liberal promises. But there is 
much else in a true poem ; and poetic taste and culture 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF FICTION. 43 1 

consists in finding pleasure apart from the exaggerations 
that come home to the least cultivated. 

It needs little examination to discover that the 
strongest stimulant of Art productions is in the direc- 
tion of illimitable appetite and desire — the passions of 
love, malevolence, ambition, sensuality. These must be 
stirred more or less to make the interest of a poem or 
a picture. The highest Art and the highest Art edu- 
cation check and control the outgoings of the fiery pas- 
sions ; hold in subjection the demons that are unavoidably 
raised. No greater triumph can be effected by an Artist 
or by an education in Art. 

The two developments of poetry that have brought 
into greater prominence both its lights and its shadows 
are Fiction or Romance, and the Drama. Both have 
b^en highly popular ; yet both have been inveighed 
against as unfavourable to morality. Although, of the 
two, dramatic representation is most attacked, there is 
but one question between them. 

Fiction names a wide class ; and the difference be- 
tween the best and the worst examples is the whole 
difference between good and evil — virtue and vice. 
This, however, settles nothing. The crucial instances 
are such fictions as are most disseminated and most 
popular ; that are imbibed by the ordinary mind without 
misgivings. Now, if we take the approved romances of 
the present day, we find much of the highest art, together 
with an essential tincture of indulgence in sentiment 
or ideality. It depends on the reader,, whether the 
high art or the grosser element is most influential. The 
proper aim of Art education and culture is to enable 



432 ART EDUCATION. 

US to feel these higher artistic effects, at the least possible 
expenditure of gross and grovelling passion. Such an 
education as this would be worthy of being promoted 
by all the means at our disposal. 

The indulgence in the pleasures of Fiction is met 
by one very intelligible regulation ; namely, putting it 
on the level of Stimulants, to be used with moderation. 
The late Andrew Combe contended for a moderate use 
of Fiction. We can fall back upon the sober realities 
of life without revulsion, after a sparing allowance of 
Ideality, but not after excess. 

The numerous works of genius that take the form 
of Fiction, together with Poetry in the more narrow 
sense, are undoubtedly an education in themselves. The 
force, elegance, and affluence of diction in general, the 
refinements and delicacies of conversational style in par- 
ticular, the pourtraying of character and the depicting of 
scenery and life, the wise maxims wittily expressed, not 
to mention the inspiriting ideals, — cannot go for nothing 
upon the mind of the reader. They are efficacious, 
however, just in proportion to previous culture ; with a 
vast majority of fiction readers, the effect is barely to be 
traced ; these in their haste extract only the plot, senti- 
ment and passion, and let all the rest escape them. To 
gain the full impression of a work of the highest genius 
demands slow perusal, and a considerable pause before 
entering on any other. 

It seems strange that so rich a display of colloquial 
art as we find in the prose romance should do so little 
to refine the conversational part of our social intercourse. 
Perhaps it does more than we are aware of. 

The Drama diff*ers from Fiction in general only in 



EDUCATION OF THE THEATRE. 433 

the incidents of theatrical representation. The most 
obvious consequence of this is increased impressiveness ; 
the story, sentiment or passion of the piece, whatever it 
is, is not changed in character, but made far more strik- 
ing : enhancing the gctodness or the badness as the case 
may be. Of course, a play is in every way more exciting 
than a novel, and, on Combe's rule of Temperance, 
should be less indulged in ; but the tendency of the 
composition remains the same. If our education pre- 
pares us to enter into the higher elements, we suffer the 
less from any admixture of the grosser interest. 

There is one, and only one, educating influence 
peculiar to the Theatre, as such, and that is the art of 
elocution and demeanour ; this too being one of the 
refinements of social life wherein our population is 
specially backward. We see on the stage the most 
consummate examples of manner and address in various 
situations, slightly exaggerated from the necessities of 
distant effect, but surpassing all, except the rarest, 
instances in common life. Virtue or vice may be found 
alike on and off the stage ; but elocution and gesture 
can be learnt in perfection there and there alone. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

PROPORTIONS. 

Next to confusion, there cannot be a greater evil than 
disproportion. A curriculum might be so arranged that, 
while each topic should be useful in itself, the whole 
would be a failure. It is needless to imagine absurd 
extremes ; we shall be able to produce actual cases 
sufficiently glaring. 

My first instance is the Cambridge system of Ma- 
thematical wranglerships. A high wrangler is a man 
professionally fitted for some special post involving 
Mathematics ; but, if he turns to one of the other pro- 
fessions — Law, Medicine, the Church, the Public Ser- 
vice, he has incurred an irremediable waste of human 
strength. 

The same remark applies to the stimulants brought 
to bear upon minute Classical scholarship. Unless for a 
professional career as a classical teacher or scholar, there 
is a gross disproportion here also ; waiving altogether 
the more general question of classical study. 

Natural History has not been long enough in use in 
the public seminaries to be abused in the same way as 
these two long-standing branches. But, considering 
that the Natural History Sciences are characterized by 
an interminable host of particulars, nothing is easier 



MATHEMATICS.— LANGUAGES. 435 

than to waste time and strength over these, and to ex- 
clude the other studies that are co-essential for a broad 
and liberal culture of the mind. 

The error of the Cambridge wranglers may of course 
be repeated in every one of the primary sciences, as 
Experimental Physics, Chemistry, Physiology, Psycho- 
logy. Any special encouragement given to one, co- 
operating with an individual preference, leads to the 
neglect of the rest, as well as the loss of the lights that 
they mutually throw upon one another. A purely psy- 
chological or metaphysical education might be the worst 
case of any ; in no department is it more necessary to 
possess the advantages of a training in all the scientific 
methods — Deduction, Induction, Classification. Logic, 
which is usually coupled with Metaphysics, is not enough 
of itself. 

It is in Languages that disproportion, as well as 
other mistakes, may be most readily exemplified. The 
addition to the Mother Tongue of one foreign language, 
living or dead, is a very large expenditure of mental 
force, and ought not to be entered on without due cal- 
culation of probable fruits. What then shall we say to 
the multiplication of languages — to the indiscriminate 
Imposition of two, three, or four, upon the mass of youths 
preparing for hard professional life .'' Very few men can 
by any possibility turn to account two ancient and four 
modern languages. Sir George Cornewall Lewis, the 
historian Grote, and those similarly devoted to literary 
and historical research, could make actual use of Greek, 
Latin, French, German, and Italian ; but these are rare 
exceptions. 

In the very limited education of young girls, it is 



436 PROPORTIONS. 

thought necessary to include both the French and Ger- 
man languages, and sometimes also Italian. No con- 
sideration is given to the likelihood of their ever taking 
any interest in the matter conveyed in those languages, 
whether as information or as polite letters. Excepting 
the conversational employment of them, in an occasional 
visit to the Continent, for which French alone is quite 
sufficient, the time spent on these languages seems, for 
the large majority, quite thrown away. 

I have already alluded to the disproportional share 
of attention bestowed upon the purely antiquarian or 
archaic part of our own language. Old English is 
sca'rcely of the smallest value for the actual use of the 
language, and is not very generally interesting as an 
affair of curiosity. The proper place of Anglo-Saxon 
and early English seems to be among optional side- 
studies in the higher curriculum, and not at all in the 
first stages of Grammar and Composition. 

There is a due proportion to be observed at every 
stage between information and language — between 
thought and expression. The excess of language chiefly 
attaches to the addition of too many foreign languages ; 
we have yet to see, what no doubt we shall see, a dis- 
proportionate attention to the arts of expression in the 
vernacular. 

In primary education, errors of disproportion are 
common, but not so marked and constant as in the 
higher curriculum. The bias of the individual teacher 
leads to inequalities that cannot be controlled. More- 
over, sufficient attention has not yet been paid to the 
ipest selection and adjustment of topics for the needs of 



PRIMARY EDUCATION. 437 

the pupils in after life. The primary school begins and 
ends the education of the masses ; it begins the educa- 
tion of a portion of those that proceed to the secondary 
schools. The mixture of these two classes is at present 
perplexing, owing to the requirement of the dead lan- 
guages in the higher education. On an amended curricu- 
lum, with knowledge and literary training as the staple, 
there might be an entire harmony between the primary 
and the secondary teaching; the course would be homoge- 
neous throughout. The last years of the primary school- 
ing, say from ten to thirteen, would contain systematic 
courses of physical and social science, with English 
composition and literature ; to continue which would 
be the main task of the three or four years making up 
the secondary course. The sequence or progression of 
topics would be such that, at whatever point the pupil 
left school, the knowledge gained would all be available 
for use ; there would be no wasted beginnings. Each 
year of the course might be made to yield the best crop 
that the soil will furnish. The Primary Sciences should 
be the goal of the knowledge course. The occupation 
with such tertiary products as geography and history, 
should not be continued longer than is requisite to 
prepare for the secondary strata of the Natural History 
subjects, and the generalized Historical or Social science ; 
and these in turn should give place as soon as possible 
to Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, &c., and, if neces- 
sary, they should be resumed in their most consummate 
form, by the side of the primary or mother sciences. 

There can thus be no other curricular arrangement, 
even for the labouring population, than to give them as 
much methodized knowledge of the physical and the 



438 PROPORTIONS. 

moral world, and as much literary training as their time 
will allow. About two-thirds of the day, as a rule, 
might be given to Knowledge, and one-third to Litera- 
ture ; music, drill, and gymnastics being counted apart 
from both. It seems vain to discuss any more special 
adaptation to the supposed exigencies of the general 
mass of the people. 



APPENDIX. 



FURTHER EXAMPLES OF THE OBJECT LESSON. ' 

To illustrate still further the forms, conditions, and limitations 
of the Object Lesson, I will refer to some examples as set forth 
in works on Teaching. Numerous attempts have been made 
to give a fixed and methodical character to the lesson, for the 
guidance of young teachers. 

Almost enough was said in the text regarding the Lessons 
on the Natural History type, both particular and general. The 
conditions in these are few and intelligible. The teacher's 
difficulties culminate in the third kind of Lesson — Causation, 
which carries us into one or other of the primary sciences. 
Cause and effect is at once the simplest and most impressive 
experience, and the most abstruse and distasteful. Nothing 
yields a greater charm to the child than firing off gunpowder ; 
but, to bring anyone to the point of fully explaining the fact, 
needs a long course of very dry instruction. Causation cannot 
be excluded even from the lessons of the Natural History 
kind ; a lesson on coal or charcoal must say something as to 
its combustion, but it does not (if properly managed) enter upon 
the theory of combustion in Chemistry. A lesson on Iron would, 
probably, state its melting under a high heat, but would not 
descant upon the laws of heat in general. One of the leading 
precautions regarding the Natural History Lessons is, to avoid 



440 APPENDIX. 

being led away to the lessons of Primary Science. It is in 
these last that the dangers and difficulties are of the subtlest 
kind, as has been partly illustrated in the text. Because we 
are not bound to give the full explanation of a fact — which ex- 
planation supposes a perfectly arranged sequence of topics, as 
in a course of Natural Philosophy, Chemistry, or Physiology — 
we are apt to suppose that sequence does not need to be con- 
sidered at all. We further suppose that it signifies little how 
many different lines of causation we enter upon in a single 
lesson. Again, there is a struggle between the empirical form 
and the rational explanation, to the detriment of both. It is 
only when we feel that the rational explanation is wholly be- 
yond the powers of the pupils, that we elaborate an empirical 
statement with due care. The following is an example of a 
careful empirical statement, in dealing with the topic of Energy 
or Work, as measured by the raising of weights. Its object is 
to express the relation of velocity to height, which the pupil is 
supposed not to be capable of understanding on mechanical 
principles : — ' A body shot upwards with a double velocity will 
mount not twice but four times as high — a body with a triple 
velocity not thrice but nine times as high.' Again, ' if cannon 
balls are directed at a compact mass of wooden planks, a ball 
with a double velocity will pierce four times as many planks, a 
ball with triple velocity nine times as many.' The more con- 
scious we are that we cannot give the scientific reasons, the 
more do we aim at a precise statement of the empirical fact ; 
and facts so given are perhaps the very best scientific state- 
ments that can be deposited in the mind at an early age. The 
rule in Rhetoric, of separating, in statement, a fact from the 
reason of the fact, is seldom thoroughly complied with when we 
aim at giving both. 

For further illustration, I select the following example given 
by an able writer on Education. The Object adduced is the 
Teapot Spout and Lid. 

* I. The Spout. Bring out that its top is higher than the 



EXAMPLES OF THE OBJECT LESSON. 44I 

level of the teapot. What is that for ? Suppose one to be 
lower, say half as high. What would happen when water was 
poured in ? Give facts and illustrations so as to educe and 
establish the following points:— 

' I. Fluids easily yield to pressure. 

' 2. Pressure is conveyed to them in all directions. 

' 3. So long as there is no pressure in the spout to out- 
balance it the fluid must rise. 

' 4. Infer that the water will rise to the same height in the 
spout as it is in the teapot. Illustrate also by syphon, and 
by pipes conveying water from reservoirs to houses.' So 
much for the spout. The teacher is to expand these hints as 
directed. 

This is a lesson in the Primary Sciences, and brings out 
laws of Cause and Effect. As I have often urged, the teacher 
must settle in his mind whether it is to be an empirical or a 
reasoned lesson, or how far rational explanations can be carried 
under the circumstances ; that is to say, among other things, 
what has been the preparation by means of previous lessons or 
knowledge anyhow obtained. Without being aware of these 
points, we cannot judge altogether of the propriety or impro- 
priety of the lesson. In the Author's series there is no other 
lesson that obviously leads up to it ; although in the course 
of explaining a great variety of familiar things, a teacher may 
be conscious that he has paved the vvay for what he now 
proposes to do. On the face of the scheme, we may say that 
too much appears to be undertaken for one lesson, and that, 
for so great a lesson, the start from a specified object is illusory. 
The theme of the lesson is the first chapter in the regular course 
of Hydrostatics, embracing the fact of fluidity under pressure, 
with its many consequences ; and to give such a lesson effec- 
tively, the teacher would need to have on his table a great 
many objects, without distinguishing any one more than the 
others. The title should at once suggest the scope of the 
lesson : ' About Water and other Liquids and the way that they 
rise to their level.' In Balfour Stewart's Science Primer, we see 



442 APPENDIX. 

exemplified the mode of conducting such a lesson by the help 
of well-chosen experiments, wherein simplification is carried 
much further than it could be by any teacher acting on these 
hints ; there being, moreover, the advantage of numerous pre- 
vious lessons given in a systematic course of Natural Philo- 
sophy. Many lessons on the mechanics of motion and gravity, 
with reference to solid bodies, should precede such a lesson on 
liquid bodies. It is a lesson very ill suited for isolation, even on 
the most rigid empirical plan. Children might be previously made 
to understand what is meant by ' level,' but this needs a distinct 
effect at explanation. The teapot and syphon lesson might be 
given empirically by saying that the water in the teapot, or 
syphon, or any similar thing, rises to the same height in both 
channels ; this involves only easy notions. All explanation on 
first principles should be forborne, as clearly beyond the capa- 
city of the pupils supposed to be addressed. They might be 
made to grasp the factj and then be shown the consequences 
of pouring some more liquid into the mouth of the teapot, and 
at one leg of the syphon (a glass syphon with the bend down- 
wards is the better instrument) ; the rise in the other leg is then 
seen, until the same height is reached in both. The illustra- 
tion is varied and extended, when the syphon has a long leg 
and a short ; the water poured in at the long leg flows out at 
the other, which no longer holds it at the proper height. The 
pouring out from the teapot, by lowering the spout, is then 
adduced as the same fact. This is a good example of an 
empirical object lesson on an interesting and recurring phe- 
nomenon ; while at the stage when it is first given, the im- 
pression would only be spoiled by converting it into a reasoned 
truth, based upon the fundamental laws of motion, gravity 
and fluidity. 

The illustration with the teapot and syphon would be 
enough for one lesson. A further lesson might overtake the 
case of pouring water at one end of a trough to see it flowing 
to the other end, until the surface came to rest ; which might 
be made to appear an example of the same principle of equal 



EXAMPLES OF THE OBJECT LESSON. 443 

height ; and from this might be derived the meaning of the 
word * level ; ' the statement being now varied by saying that 
water and liquids seek or find their level, or do not rest till 
they are level. Abstaining in the most careful manner from 
going back to the deductive explanation, as only competent to 
a class in Natural Philosophy, the teacher might expatiate upon 
the numerous consequences of the law in the flow of rivers, the 
tides, and many other facts. Probably if the mass of students 
of Natural Philosophy were tested, few could express strictly 
the deduction of the law from the fundamental laws; they 
have, however, been taught to express and understand it in its 
empirical (in strict Logic, its derivative) character; and only 
to this extent can it be communicated at an earlier stage of 
instruction. 

I now quote from the second part of the lesson on the 
Teapot. 

' II. Hole in the Lid. i. What is a hole placed there for ? 
Perhaps a lad will say, to let steam escape. Elicit that escape 
of steam would be escape of heat. What would result? Is 
that desirable? 

* 2. Refer to boy's sucker. How is it that the stone sticks 
to it ? Give experiments to show the pressure of the air. Infer 
that there is pressure of air in the spout. What would be its 
effect? &:c. 

' 3. Put two test questions. As there is a pressure through 
the hole in the lid, how is it that the water does not rise in the 
spout and overflow? The pressure in the spout balances it. 
When the teapot is held so that the tea runs out, what forces 
are acting on the spout? Two, — the pressure of the air 
through the hole, and the weight of the air.' 

Taken by itself, this lesson is open to the same criticisms as 
the previous one. The preparations for it should be distinctly 
conceived ; the limits to rational explanation ought also to be 
conceived, and the empirical character assumed accordingly. 
Furtherj the subject should be propounded in its real character 
as a lesson on the Pressure of the Air ; and provision should 



444 APPENDIX. 

be made for exemplifying it upon the most suitable apparatus. 
To connect it with a teapot is pure irrelevance. Indeed, it is 
something worse. For the next remark to be made is, that the 
two great subjects here associated with the teapot should not be 
broached in the same day, or even in the same month. A great 
many lessons on liquids ought to be given, before air is men- 
tioned at all ; and when this is entered upon, no one object is fit 
to be put forward as the sole or even the principal vehicle of the 
information. The table needs to be covered with instruments ; 
the line of approaches needs to be carefully chalked out ; a 
series of at least a dozen lessons must be pre-arranged. With 
all this, the teaching at its best can end only in an empiricism : 
for if the pupils are not to be trusted to educe the rise of 
liquids from Gravity and Liquidity, still less are they qualified 
to demonstrate the propositions of Aerostatics. But just as 
the liquid lesson culminated in an intelligible empiricism, from 
which many interesting natural facts could be shown to result, 
so it might be with the air; but not so easily. The unseen cha- 
racter of the agent at work makes an enormous difference. Pre- 
paring the way by enunciating the mechanical properties of the 
air, so as to lead up to an intelligent comprehension of the fact 
that it has weight, and presses upon every surface at the stated 
rate of 15 lbs. on the inch, what we aim at is to show what 
happens when the air is removed from any surface. Experi- 
mental illustrations would have to be adduced, as set forth in 
the Science Primers, and the empiricism distinctly stated (with 
no attempt to mount to the final reasoned explanation) and 
carefully iterated. Many lessons would be required ; but in 
the end, the explanation of numerous interesting facts might 
be achieved. 



PASSING EXPLANATIONS OF TERMS. 445 



P.iSSLVG EXPLANATIONS OF TERMS. 

One of the most delicate parts of the teacher's work con- 
sists in explaining the meanings of the hard words occurring in 
the reading lessons. The manner of doing this varies greatly. 
A. certain number of terms may be seen to be hopelessly unin- 
telligible; others would occupy too much time to explain, and 
are better deferred to a suitable opportunity. For those that 
may be rendered intelligible, we have to consider the available 
resources of explanation. 

1. The Pestalozzi method of showing the Objects is the 
best of all, when it can be had. This method is so obvious, but 
withal of such limited application, that I do not dwell upon it. 
It is not so much adapted to the school, as to the contact with 
the general world, where the child is always encountering new 
things, and wishing to know their names. 

If a school happened to be furnished with a small museum 
and a stock of apparatus, for the higher teaching, there would 
be a corresponding addition to the resources for explaining 
names at all stages. 

2. If a thing that is already known or familiar is brought 
forward by some unfamiliar term, to call the thing to mind is 
to explain the term. This is exemplified in dealing with our 
learned vocabulary. We are acquainted with heat and cold, 
water, wind, light, under these homely terms ; and when de- 
scribed in the more technical phraseology of the language, we 
have a means of explanation in these familiar names. As in- 
stances maybe cited, ' frigid zone,' a ' luminous orb,' 'auriferous 
rocks,' ' acjueous vapour,' ' subterranean.' 

This situation is both the facility and the snare of our word 
explanations, whether in letters or in dictionaries. The defining 
by synonyms is the conversion of an accident into a prin- 
ciple. If our language were not made up of two vocabularies, 
the radical futility of the operation that underlies the method 



446 APPENDIX. 

of our dictionaries would have been discovered long ago. So 
completely has the idea of synonymous explanation got a hold 
of our minds, that we are almost as ready to give the more 
difficult of the equivalents to explain the easier, as the easier 
to explain the more difficult ; ' gravity ' for ' weight,' * morose ' 
for ' surly,' ' circumspection ' for ' care,' ' rational ' for ' reason- 
able.' It is still less surprising, that we should exchange terms 
that are on an equality of abstruseness : ' satisfaction ' and 
' gratification,' ' decorate ' and ' embellish,' ' insidious ' and 
'treacherous,' 'proclivity' and 'inclination,' 'simultaneous' 
and ' contemporaneous.' 

It is not enough for the teacher to guard against the error 
of supposing that any synonym will as a matter of course ex- 
plain any other. There is a further consideration equally 
grave. The words called synonyms are seldom strictly equiva- 
lent ; if they were so, the language ought to be disburdened 
of the superfluous terms. There is usually a shade of dif- 
ference, and sometimes a very important distinction in mean- 
ing, between so-called synonymous terms. To interpret ' an- 
cient ' by ' old ' would sometimes mislead ; an ancient nation 
and an old nation, an ancient philosopher and an old philo- 
sopher, are very far from the same meanings. Equally wrong 
would be the employment of the word in rendering ' archaic ' 
and ' antiquated.' 

3. The defect in the bare citation of a synonym is remedied 
by the round-about interpretation. We could explain ' ancient ' 
as belonging to the early periods of human history, and espe- 
cially the period antecedent to the Christian era. A lengthened 
statement such as this is often necessary, and may be fully 
adequate to the occasion. If it contains no words or references 
that the hearer does not already know, and if it exactly ex- 
presses the meaning, it is a full and proper explanation. The 
principle implied in it is the principle of proceeding from the 
known to the unknown ; it assumes that the thing to be defined 
is a combination of elements already understood. Many seem- 
ingly hard words give way under this treatment. ' Amphibious ' 



PASSING EXPLANATIONS OF TERMS. 44/ 

admits of explanation to a very juvenile class ; the ideas that 
have to be brought together, are each quite familiar. * Tem- 
perate' is neither hot nor cold, something between the two. 
' Equilibrium,' a balance, not inclining to one side or the 
other. 

When the pupils comprehend the. nature of some leading 
institution, as the family, or the state, they can be made to un- 
derstand the various names corresponding to it in analogous 
institutions. Thus mother and child may be extended to the 
animals ; the names for the sovereign power in foreign nations 
— Emperor, Czar, Sultan, Khan, President — are explicable 
when government is understood. Not only so, but the hearers 
can be made to comprehend important variations in the same 
fact or institution. Being once familiar with the Church in 
any one form, they can understand the other forms. An 
* orchard ' is explicable to those that know an ordinary garden. 
To ' soar ' is a mode of flying. 

The method necessarily fails if there be as much as one 
unintelligible constituent, or if there be a haziness about the 
elementary notions generally. A constructive operation is suc- 
cessful according as each one of the elements is fully grasped. 
' Monopoly ' cannot be understood without a considerable hold 
of the ideas of buying and selling. ' Revenue ' demands a 
large preparation of political and other knowledge. ' Moral- 
ize," occurring in a lesson in the third or fourth standards, 
would have to be given up as hopeless. ' Civilization ' is late 
in being understood ; its explanation belongs to a connected 
view of social or historical science. 

Many words have successive steps of meaning, beginning 
with what is simple and leading on to what is abstruse. A 
' mystery ' may mean nothing more than is signified by conceal- 
ment ; it rises above this to what is in itself unknowable or 
incomprehensible ; and finally, carries a cluster of emotions of 
sublimity and awe. When big words are used for their easier 
meanings, the task of the teacher is easy ; he limits his expla- 
nation to the case. Because the word * reason ' occurs in its 



448 APPENDIX. 

ordinary sense of supplying a reason or argument, we are not 
bound to deal with its abstruse signification in Kant's philo- 
sophy. 

I doubt whether the teacher is called upon to dwell spe- 
cially upon the ambiguity of words. Although many words 
have plurality of meanings, yet in every good composition, the 
ambiguity is resolved by the context, so that the difficulty is got 
over for the time. Continuous reading both brings out am- 
biguity and meets it. There should be some special reason 
for entering on the subject, and it should be done upon some 
method ; it is too wide for desultory treatment. A passing 
question may be allowed, after the pupils have had opportunities 
of encountering some word in more than one acceptation, pro- 
vided always that it refers to subjects within their grasp. The 
word ' post ' is an obvious example. So ' vice,' * air,' ' box,' 
* burn.' 

4. The Figurative uses of words give a wide scope to the 
teacher's explanations. Here he can do much to assist the 
pupils, and can work in a definite line of procedure. 

Figures that have by iteration lost their figurative character, 
and become the ordinary designations of things, as ' fortune,' 
' spirit,' ' meeting,' ' court,' ' conception,' do not call for notice. 

The proper Figures are those where there is an apparent 
stretch of meaning that to the youthful mind needs to be 
accounted for and justified. A ' ivind of doctrine,' a ' sea of 
troubles,' ' a surfeit of reading,' ' stony adversary,' ' ventilate an 
opinion,' ' the moi-ning of life,' ' noble bloody ' simplicity of 
manners,' have an effect of surprise when first heard ; and the 
curiosity that they awaken may be made use of to impress the 
meaning. This supposes that the source of the figure is some- 
thing already understood. Far-fetched allusions are to be ex- 
plained only under favourable circumstances. 

5. It is necessary to take account of the natural or spon- 
taneous process of ascertaining the meanings of words, after 
possessing a stock sufficient for understanding the drift of 
ordinary language. This is by a kind of tentative and indue- 



PASSING EXPLANATIONS OF TERMS. 449 

tive process. On first hearing a strange word, we are often 
able to judge from the connection what it is Hkely to mean. 
Some one has committed a fault, and has been severely cen- 
sured. The child understands the meaning of committing the 
fault, and expects some sort of penal consequence to follow ; 
it is not described as punishment, yet it is something approach- 
ing it. Perhaps it means ' scolded.' This surmise is all that 
can be made out of the occasion. Let there, however, be 
a second and a third repetition of the word : — ' A writer in 
the newspaper censures the Town Council ; ' * the Council de- 
serves praise rather than censiit'c.' It is now plain by an indue 
tion of these additional instances, that censure is something 
different from punishment ; it means something painful that 
we can inflict even upon superiors, and the instrumentality is 
language. 

We begin early this operation of guessing at the meanings 
of words, from a collation of different instances, and carry it 
on to the last. What is necessary is that the general meaning 
of the situation be understood. A passage should be intel- 
ligible on the whole ; and if so, some advance will be made in"~ 
divining the sense of an outstanding word. In rendering aid 
to the struggling intelligence of the pupils, the teacher has to 
meet the case thus : ' The army moved forward to engage the 
enemy, and left its baggage in the rear with a guard.' ' What 
does baggage mean ? ' ' You see it is something belonging to 
the army, not wanted immediately for fighting.' There is no 
better test of the general understanding of a passage, than the 
ability to guess from it the likely meaning of an unknown word. 
We could not reasonably expect the teacher to follow this up 
on the instant with varied examples for inductive comparison. 
Yet the operation is quite within reach, and contains the 
essence of what is meant by Induction in the highest walks of 
science. 

6. It must seem obvious that very important leading terms 
should not be discussed under the circumstances that we are 



450 APPENDIX. 

now supposing. Such words as gravity, polarity, vibration, 
affinity, reciprocity, beauty, diplomacy, statute, formality, em- 
blem, civilization, — would each form the topic of an express 
lesson, or else depend for their explanation upon a methodical 
course of their several departments of knowledge. It may so 
happen, however, that the purpose of their employment does 
not involve their most scientific use, and that they can be ex- 
plained for the occasion without a rigorous definition. ' Statute 
law,' or 'according to the statute^ could be made sufficiently 
intelligible for a passing allusion, although belonging to the 
technicalities of Jurisprudence. The word ' nature ' is one of 
very abstruse signification, .but its passing uses can often be 
made plain enough. The teacher, in such cases, should be 
aware that he is not called upon to expound such terms accord- 
ing to their full and exact definition. The lesson-books are 
somewhat misleading in this respect. The authors do not 
consciously make the distinction between an explanation for 
the purpose in hand, and a thorough, complete, and final 
definition. They naturally think that a word brought up in 
the course of a lesson should be disposed of there and then ; 
and that one of the purposes of the lesson is to bring forward 
important terms with a view to their being satisfactorily ex- 
plained. This idea, pushed to the extreme, would disintegrate 
the lesson, and resolve the teaching into a course of dictionary 
work. The best and foremost use of a reading lesson is to 
impart a connected meaning, each part having a perceptible 
bearing upon every other. The portions that are clear should 
serve to illuminate those that are dark ; and this operation 
should not be interfered with by digressions for exhausting 
the meanings of chance terms. 

There is a class of words that, occurring in this way, 
might be finally disposed of by one stroke of explanation, 
without interrupting the proper course of the lesson. They 
are such as are not important enough to be leading terms 
in science, but yet contribute to the expression of important 
facts or doctrines. The followina; are a few at random. 



PASSING EXPLANATIONS OF TERMS. 45 I 

' Salvage,' what is saved from a wreck ; ' veteran,' a soldier 
who has been in the service long enough to have full expe- 
rience, but not worn out (opposed to a fresh raw recruit) ; 
' frontiers,' the front, or border of a country ; ' retrograde,' 
going backwards instead of advancing, contrasted with ' pro- 
gress ; ' * variegated,' marked with different colours ; ' reservoir,' 
a place where water is stored, to be run off when wanted ; 
' simulate,' feign or pretend to be something that we are not, 
with a view to deceive, while ' dissimulate ' is to conceal what 
we are doing for the same end ; opposed to both is avowing 
openly what we are doing. 

For this class of words, the explanations in the notes to the 
lesson, should be careful and exact. The teacher cannot be 
expected to provide offhand definitions that will hit the precise ■ 
points ; this is the business of the lesson annotator and the 
dictionary maker. 

7. It is useful to reflect upon the efficacy of the regular or 
systematic lesson in giving the correct meanings of words in 
entire groups. For example, every scientific lesson contains a 
number of important terms; and these occur in correlated 
groups. When we enter upon Geometry, we are taught to 
conceive point, line, curve, triangle, square, circle, &c. — all in 
connection ; the agreements and contrasts, and the regular 
sequence, make the definitions easy. Parallelogram or poly- 
gon, occurring as a passing word in a lesson, is explained, if at 
all, at a great disadvantage. 

The same effect takes place in other instances. Thus, in 
a lesson on a sliip, many strange terms have to be brought for- 
ward ; and the quickest way of arriving at their meanings is to 
learn, by one continuous stroke of application, all that relates 
to the ship. 

There are certain crafts or industries that, from being more 
familiar to us than others, are oftener quoted and referred to, 
both for information, and for figurative allusions. Such are 
agriculture, building, navigation, trading, criminal justice, and. 



452 APPENDIX. 

perhaps above all, military operations. These have each their 
peculiar terms ; we gather up the meanings by scattered allu- 
sions, on the tentative or inductive plan. The process might 
be shortened by a few compacted lessons, that would set forth 
in methodical array all the chief parts and processes in each 
department, with the appropriate designations. A lesson on the 
military art would be very taking to youth of ten or twelve; and 
would be a collateral aid to the narratives of campaigns, which 
are so largely drawn upon in reading manuals. 

8. Although I have proposed to restrain the licence of pass- 
ing explanations, by an indication of the bounds that should 
be set to it, thereby precluding the more elaborate and thorough 
modes of defining, I may still be permitted to remark, that the 
teacher should know what, in the last resort, thorough defining 
is. For all notions that are ultimate (as equality, succession, 
unity, duration, resistance, pain, &c.), and many that are com- 
posite or derivative, there is no definition possible except the 
appeal to particulars ; which brings us back, after a long round, 
to what was said as to the mode of imparting Abstract Ideas. 
In lessons that are properly and strictly knowledge lessons, the 
handling of particulars for this great end needs to be as familiar 
as household words. Although its sphere is in the leading 
terms of science and the higher knowledge, yet it may admit 
of occasional application to passing terms and allusions. The 
word 'hallucination' could be happily explained by two or 
three examples, real or supposed, of persons suffering under 
mental delusion. So a ceremony could be illustrated by a few 
select instances. As these explanations necessarily occupy 
time, and are a new direction to the pupils' thoughts, they 
should be either given at the beginning of ii lesson, by way of 
essential preparation, or be held as matters reserved, the lesson 
being completed by help of a mere provisional gloss. 

I will now make a concluding observation as to the composi- 
tion of Reading Lessons. It is desirable to exclude from these 
lessons, as far as possible, all terms that cause trouble to the 
teacher and distraction to the pupils. If a learned name occurs, 



PASSING EXPLANATIONS OF TERMS. 



453 



intended only in one of its easier meanings, it can be dispensed 
with. On the other hand, it would be often useful to make 
room for an important term that could be readily understood 
in its setting, with a little assistance from the notes or the 
teacher. 



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